Surf and Turf
by OughtaKnowBetter
Summary: Final chapter posted! Many many thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: all theirs, nothing mine. Heavy sigh

Surf and Turf

By OughtaKnowBetter

            On a certain day in late spring, three separate incidents occurred. They were about to be related in no uncertain terms, but at this time, approximately three o'clock in the afternoon, not one of the participants was aware of the coincidence. Indeed, none of them were aware that the others existed.

            The first took place on a pier on the eastern Florida coast. The main character was a certain Jacob R. Prescott IV, a young man with too much time, too much of his mother's money, and too little diligence on his hands. He spent that money on hiring a small but seaworthy yacht captained by one Theo Tanikopolis for the purpose of spending that time on one of the two young ladies still giggling on the dock along with Jake's friend Mike Witherspoon. The fact that both ladies were clad in swimsuits that barely abided by local obscenity laws was not lost on Captain Tanikopolis. But the money was good, and the tourist season had been poor, thanks to the media reports of frequent shark attacks. Captain Tanikopolis didn't doubt the veracity of such reports—he himself had seen more sharks in these waters this year than the past three combined—but the media could have shown a bit more restraint. After all, a man had a living to earn, and scaring paying customers away was not what the good captain liked.

            So Tanikopolis sighed, and picked up the magazine that his sister had sent him, preparing to spend the larger portion of the voyage somewhere inconspicuous on his own boat. The magazine was a science-oriented news rag. His sister was always trying to get him to improve his mind, study something 'worthwhile'. Tanikopolis snorted. The cover story was of some bright-ass scientist, working with human genes and other similar nonsense. Tanikopolis snorted again. Did it improve the quality of the fishing? He doubted it. Did it improve the common sense of people? He doubted that even more.

*          *          *

            The second link in this chain of events was somewhat more noteworthy, being a dogfight between an airborne fighter and another fighter immersed in the cold Atlantic ocean. Normally a dogfight would not be of this level of remarkable; though not war-time, some military forces routinely conducted these exercises in preparation for the real thing and to justify the allocation of money extorted from other branches of government.

            This dogfight, however, was being waged without benefit of equipment.

            The aerial being was not in an airplane, jet, helicopter, or any other artificial means of flight. Instead, he sported a pair of large, feathered wings that emerged seamlessly from his back. His long and flowing blue hair seemed to float into those feathers, giving him an almost fluid look from head to waist. His arms were busy with a bow and a flight of arrows, most of which he was diligently putting into the waves at his opponent.

            Said opponent was equally distinctive, though less flamboyant about it. He possessed gills that functioned very efficiently underwater. If one were close enough to observe one would see that the water bound combatant had webbing between both toes and fingers that assisted him in propelling himself through the water. His weapon was a long and deadly spear. That the spear was effective was clear: his airborne adversary was the not-so-proud recipient of a red gash across his ribs.

            The dogfight was over in moments. The aerialist soared out of reach, caught an updraft, and disappeared into the clouds. His report to his clan would include a somewhat exaggerated account of how he defeated the merman, but accuracy was unimportant. The merman would likewise boast of how he sent the winged wonder to a watery grave. If the various reports of both sides were to be believed on an ongoing basis, then the multitude of such encounters would lead the believer to conclude that the bottom of the Atlantic must be littered with bones from each species.

*          *          *

            The last coincidental occurrence took place in a hidden place called Sanctuary, a home _cum_ laboratory that housed four New Mutants and a scientist named Adam Kane. Dr. Kane was, as usual, lost in thought in that laboratory, trying to make whatever earth-shattering discovery he was involved in come out right. The science was beyond the New Mutants, though they made an effort to keep up with their mentor.

            The first of the New Mutants, Brennan Mulray, was engaged in hand to hand combat with another by the name of Shalimar Fox; a work-out session. They made an interesting study in contrasts, Brennan tall with dark good looks and Shalimar a tiny bundle of blonde energy. Neither could get the best of each other, trading pulled punches and kicks, rolling just out of reach. Brennan had the reach on her, but Shalimar retaliated by extraordinary athleticism, jumping high and beyond arm's length. If it looked as though she could jump several times her height like a cat, then the observer would be correct: Shalimar Fox was a feral.

            The third New Mutant sat in front of a computer. If asked, Jesse Kilmartin would reply that he was beefing up the security of Sanctuary, testing the defenses and searching for ways to make the fortress more secure. Bright eyes poured into the screen, scanning the results in front of him, taking out a menace here, a trap there…

            Only Emma DeLauro, sitting cross-legged a little apart from the others with eyes closed, knew better. She smiled a secret smile to herself, allowing her thoughts to drift over her teammates. Her own gift—no longer a curse, thanks to Adam Kane's brilliance and, more importantly, his caring—was telempathy, the ability to sense what others were feeling with unerring accuracy. That gift allowed her to see what Jesse was actually doing: rather than working on Sanctuary security, the molecular New Mutant was playing a computer game, outsmarting villain after villain and seeking after the treasure chest located in some imaginary computer room. Emma didn't mind. It was the rare individual who could enter Sanctuary uninvited, and Jesse was a significant part of that protection. If unwinding from the stress included the occasional stint of gaming, then Emma was all for it.

            Shalimar's emotions were a joy to sink into: clean and pure, simple as the animal she was named for. There was no deviousness about the feral. She felt what she felt, and never made any secret of it. Being around Shalimar was almost always a relief for Emma; no need to hide, and no need to pretend.

            Brennan was another story. The elemental had grown up on the streets, and looking for ulterior motives was as natural to him as the electricity that shot from his hands. Emma brushed lightly over his emotions, careful not to delve too deeply, not to disturb the crevice filled with the fear of abandonment that had been carved out of him as a child. She moved on.

            Emma had her own Sanctuary defenses to look to, ones that she didn't share with Adam. She wondered if he knew that she did this, and suspected that he did. Emma routinely 'swept' the facility for the presence of malevolent thoughts. It kept the place peaceful, and a welcome respite from the outside world. And, on occasion, she had detected an intruder that the electronic sensors missed.

            These three other New Mutants were now her family, her brothers and sister. She would do anything for them, anything within her power—which was considerable. Another secret smile to herself, and she then telempathically sought out the bright light that was her mentor.

            At first she couldn't 'find' him. Emma frowned; that wasn't right. Adam Kane was in his lab. She had 'touched' him there not an hour previous. Emma 'looked' harder. There he was, but there was something odd. His thoughts were fuzzy and jumbled, not the diamond-hard clarity that Emma was accustomed to.

            Then those thoughts were gone.

            "Adam!" she cried out.

            The other three looked up, alarmed.

            "Emma?" Shalimar questioned.

            "It's Adam!" she insisted. "There's something wrong!"

            None of them doubted her for an instant. Jesse left his computer game without a second glance. The three-eyed toad-monster gobbled up the plucky video-heroine in seconds.

*          *          *

            The lab was pristine clean and white, a table with equipment decorating the top. Multi-colored liquids bubbled from several beakers, and something hissed in the clean room hood in the back corner. Not one but three computers quietly murmured to themselves, running programs presumably related to the afore-mentioned liquids. One computer had its display shone up onto a wall screen, demonstrating the progression of a strand of DNA inserting itself through a cell membrane. It looked vaguely disturbing.

            Even more disturbing was the fact that Adam Kane, perpetrator of those computer programs, was lying on the floor, face down, blood running down his face.

            "Adam!" Shalimar cried out.

            Brennan automatically took charge. "Emma, check him out. Shalimar, search for intruders. Jess, lock down Sanctuary. Run the sensors; see who or what got in. Move!"

            Emma turned Adam over. The man groaned, trying not to open his eyes. She felt his forehead. "He's hot. Brennan, he's feverish. He's sick."

            "There's blood on the corner of this table," Shalimar announced, nostrils flaring. "It looks like he hit his head on the way down."

            "No intruders," Jesse added from his spot in front of one of the computers. It was no longer running Adam's program but had been pressed into service to scan all of Sanctuary. "There's no one else here besides the four of us and Adam. How is he? What's wrong?"

            "He's sick. That's what's wrong," Emma said worriedly. "He must have passed out, and hit his head."

            "Concussion, you think?" Shalimar asked.

            They looked at each other. Adam was the doctor, the one who always picked up the pieces whenever one of them crashed. Right now he was the one unconscious on the floor.

            Jesse finally voiced what they were all thinking. "What do we do now?" 

            Brennan gave a lop-sided smile. "Call 911?"

*          *          *

            Shalimar hated hospitals.

            She _really_ hated them with a passion. Going into one was one of the hardest things she could ever do, right up there with her feral terror of fire, yet here she was, pacing in the waiting room along with Brennan, Jesse, and Emma, prowling back and forth and stepping outside for a few moments when it got too bad. Emma sometimes accompanied her on these outside excursions. Shalimar knew that Emma's excuse was to keep Shalimar company, but the feral also suspected that the pain and misery radiating from everyone inside was getting to the empath. Emma needed her own escape.

            "He's going to be all right," Emma said on one of these jaunts. "He's going to be all right."

            "You're repeating yourself," Shalimar said. "Who are you trying to convince? Me, or you?"

            "Me," Emma admitted. "It's really scary. For the first time, I can't touch him. I mean, I couldn't touch his thoughts. It's like he was just…gone."

            "He's not going anywhere," Shalimar said resolutely. "He's going to be okay. This is a good hospital."

            Brennan poked his head out. "Hey, guys, you coming? Doc says we can see Adam."

*          *          *

            Adam's face looked as white as the sheet that he lay on, the narrow ER bed barely wide enough to accommodate his wiry frame. An intravenous hung from a convenient pole, dripping a yellowed fluid into his arm, and the gash on his forehead had been covered over with a neat white bandage. He levered open his eyes as the four trouped in.

            "Hi, guys," he said weakly. "Sorry about this."

            "You should be." Shalimar took his hand, the free one not tethered by the IV. "You scared us half to death. Why didn't you tell us that you were sick?"

            "Good question." The gray-haired emergency room doctor pulled back the curtain just enough to enter. "These the kids you pulled off the street, Adam?"

            "My lab assistants," Adam correctly as firmly as he could.

            "Lab rats, more like it. You always did have a penchant for rescuing abandoned kittens." It was obvious that Dr. Gary Girimonte knew Dr. Adam Kane from long ago. Brennan cocked his head with a mildly challenging air. "And a tendency to work yourself to death. Literally, this time."

            "Hah." It would have sounded more convincing if Adam could have said it above a hoarse whisper.

            "Hmm, let's see if I've got it right." Dr. Girimonte struck a pose, hand to his chin and finger tapping as if in thought. He turned to the four. "I'll bet that Adam here lives in his laboratory. That either his home is part of the lab, or he's turned the basement into a lab away from the lab. Right?"

            "Pretty much," Brennan admitted. It was as good a description of what went on in Sanctuary as anything.

            "Next: he's taken the four of you in, with possibly more of you hanging around back at the lab. He's glorified the title of lab assistant for you, but you probably have very little to do with the actual work going on there. Do any of you even have a high school diploma?"

            "Some of us do." Jesse refused to get nettled. The sheepish look on Adam's face deepened.

            "Let's move to recent events." Girimonte was clearly enjoying himself. "Adam has once again gotten deeply involved with researching some topic that mere mortals cannot understand, and forgets to eat, sleep," he sniffed deeply, "at least you remembered to bathe, Adam. In short, you ran yourself into the ground. You passed out, not neglecting to whack your head on a convenient piece of furniture on the way down, and gave yourself concussion. That pretty much cover the facts, Adam?"

            Adam mumbled something indistinct.

            "And just how do you know all this?" Brennan challenged.

            Girimonte grinned. "I started out a year ahead of Adam in medical school. By the time I finished, he'd gone through all four years of med school _and_ his intern year and was well into combining both a residency and a research grant. Of course, it helped that he only needed four hours of sleep per night."

            "Six," Adam grumbled.

            "And you squeaked by on two most of the time. Until it caught up with you." Girimonte grinned again. "You should have seen him. It was my senior year, and his second year of residency. He looked just like this—though a bit younger, of course—and just as stubborn. He had two research projects going on at the same time as well as a full load of patients to see, and he crashed and burned pretty spectacularly. I was on call that night. As I recall, there was an explosion and a fire in his lab that the local fire company still talks about. Come to think of it, I stitched up a laceration that night, too. Or was it two lacerations?"

            "One," Adam all but snarled. "Are you going to spend the time reminiscing, or are you going to let me out of here?"

            Girimonte turned serious. "You're not going anywhere, Adam. For your stupidity, you have just earned yourself an overnight stay in the Chez University Medical Center, and you will consider yourself lucky. Where you spend the next week to ten days will depend on your assistants."

            "What do you mean?" Adam asked suspiciously.

            "I mean, you will rest and recuperate for a minimum of ten days. You will not return to your lab under any circumstances for that same period of time. Which means that you have two choices: you can spend the next ten days being terrorized by the nurses upstairs or…"

            "Or…?"

            "If your lab assistants can come up with a vacation spot no where near your laboratory and manage to keep you there for ten days, I'll consider releasing you. But not until tomorrow morning."

            "Ten days!" Adam protested. "Gary, I can't let my projects go that long! Some of them are time sensitive."

            "See what I mean?" Gary smirked at the New Mutants. "Can't trust the man. Too dedicated for his own good. That's why you've gotten a wonderful case of pneumonia, Adam."

            "Pneumonia!"

            "Yup. Again. Not the first time, kids," Girimonte told the four. "That's your choice, Adam. Ten days here with me, or ten days some place warm and sunny. What'll it be?"

            Adam smoldered. Brennan, Jesse, Shalimar, and Emma looked at each other.

            "I'll go make some calls," Jesse said.

*          *          *

            "Back to Sanctuary," Adam ordered in no uncertain terms.

            "Not a chance, Adam." Brennan continued to fly the Helix south. "You heard what your doctor friend said."

            "He's a quack. And he's not my friend."

            Shalimar covered a grin. "Didn't sound that way to me. Sounded like he had your number, Adam, down to the last digit."

            "I have experiments—"

            "They can wait," Emma told him. "Your health is more important. You might as well sit back and enjoy this, because you are not going back to Sanctuary for ten days. Not until you're feeling better."

            "I am feeling better," Adam tried to say, but a bout of coughing got in the way.

            "So how rustic is this place, Jesse?" Shalimar asked. "Small island in the middle of nowhere. And isn't this hurricane season?"

            "Not very, yes, and yes," Jesse answered.  "There's a hurricane forming out over the Atlantic, but early indications are that it will veer north and hit the Carolina coast. We might need to skip swimming for a day or so, but that's all."

            "And rustic?" Emma pushed.

            Jesse laughed. "My dad's friend Jack Prescott considered it rustic, but anything that has three full bathrooms and a hot tub doesn't qualify as rustic in my book. He's sort of loaning it to us for a couple of weeks."

            "Sort of?" Brennan pounced on the molecular's turn of phrase. "What is 'sort of'?"

            "Well, it shouldn't be too bad," Jesse shrugged. "All I have to do is fix the generator. Jack said it was acting up the last time he was there, and there've been a couple of hurricanes blowing through since then. A little cleaning, a little maintenance, and it'll be fine. Just the place to stash a recuperating and stubborn researcher." He ignored the snort that emanated from the back seat of the Helix.

            It didn't take long for the Helix to arrive. Brennan did a once around the perimeter with the Helix, allowing anyone who wanted to a look at the island from all sides. It looked picture-perfect: sandy beaches on the western side, rocky beaches on the east, and an open area that boasted a palatial-looking squat building spreading out as far as it could until it bumped up amongst the trees. Palm trees covered the interior of the island with two grassy areas, one large and one small, toward the center. A flock of birds rose from the smaller of the two grassy spots as the Helix whispered by, and Brennan lifted the craft higher to avoid a collision.

            Brennan had to land the Helix a scant mile from the cabin, where the only open spot large enough to accommodate the craft and far enough away from the shore not to have to worry about high tide was located. Jesse ignored the glares from the elemental, cheerfully hauling out the crates of food and the suitcases of clothing that they hastily packed in the hold for the excursion.

            "Almost a mile, Jess."

            "It's good for you, toting the stuff over to the cabin. Get you in shape."

            "I _am_ in shape."

            "Your shape'll be even better after this," Jesse promised, hoisting the largest container to his shoulder in mute apology.

            Brennan favored him with another glare: _not convinced, buddy_.

            Emma and Shalimar took Adam on ahead to the cabin to rest. Emma exchanged glances with Shalimar; _we got the short end of the stick: Adam_. The man kept his head down, stumbling over his own feet and grouching all the while. Twice Shalimar kept him from falling on his face, tripping over a stone in the path.

            "I can carry my own things," he grumbled.

            Shalimar raised her eyes heaven-ward. "Of course you can, Adam. That's why you're gasping for breath and had to sit down twice for a mere mile hike over flat land."

            Adam coughed savagely, and stalked off down the trail.

            Emma trailed after him, hurrying to keep up. "You didn't have to point it out to him," she whispered. "He hates being sick. He feels bad enough as it is."

            "Yes, I did. He thinks he's invulnerable, and he's not."

            Whatever invulnerability Adam assumed he had, it had vanished by the last quarter mile. Wordlessly, he accepted the help of Emma and Shalimar shoring him up under each shoulder, gritting his teeth and trying to stay upright. They guided him up onto the veranda, and Shalimar dusted off the lounger before allowing him to lie down on it.

            "This can't be happening," Adam groaned. "I have work to do, experiments to put together. I don't have time for this."

            "You don't have time to do anything else but this," Emma told him softly, putting his feet up on the lounger. "Adam, you were sick. Very sick. Even you have to take a break now and then." She took his hand. "Let us take care of you for a change."

            Adam sighed. He couldn't argue with the empath. He knew she was right. "All right. Three days."

            "Ten," Shalimar said tartly. "You heard Dr. G. at the hospital. Or I swear I'll tie you down, Adam." She smiled to take the sting out of her words. "Here. Take your medicine."

            "What's this?" Adam looked at the multi-colored pills suspiciously.

            "Antibiotics, Adam, and pain-killers. Stuff that your doctor friend prescribed for you."

            "I didn't ask for any narcotics," Adam grumbled. "They'll make me sleepy."

            "So?" Shalimar handed him a glass of juice. "Go to sleep. It'll do you good. Besides, they'll kill your headache."

            "I don't have a headache." But at Shalimar's upraised eyebrows, Adam backed down. "Maybe a small one. Oh, all right, it's a post-concussion killer. But that doesn't mean I need anything for it."

            "Maybe you don't, but I do," Shalimar said, not taking no for answer. She kissed him on top of the head. "You've been a bear all morning long."

            Brennan and Jesse staggered up, luggage in hand and a crate a piece on their backs.

            "Four more crates," Jesse bemoaned. "Do we really eat all that much food?"

            "You should know. You eat most of it, you growing boy, you."

            Shalimar popped her head into the interior of the cabin. Jesse had been right; no matter how 'rustic' the owner considered it, the place was palatial. Six bedrooms, a spa in the back in a screened-in patio, a sunken living room with a grand piano in one corner, and a kitchen that made their own back in Sanctuary look in dire need of expansion. However—

            "Jess, how about a little power?" Shalimar asked. 

            "I told you that the generator would need work," Jesse said. "Let me at least finish unloading the Helix before attacking the maintenance."

            "Nope. And I can give you a reason in one word: _air conditioning_."

            "That's two words."

            Brennan brightened. "This place has got air conditioning? Way to go, Jess. How did you find this place?"

            "Friend of the family," Jesse said. "Jack Prescott used to come here when he wanted to be away from business and his wife. It was one of the few things he was able to keep after the divorce, although he doesn't come down as much. Too busy trying to get his business back out of his wife's hands. His shares of company stock, along with his control, got split in the settlement. I think his son comes down occasionally over spring break, but that's about it."

            "Nice place," Shalimar said, looking it over. "I could get used to this real easy."

            "Well, don't," Adam said, eyes closed, from his supine place on the lounging chair. "We have work to do back home. Which is where I should be," he added pointedly.

            "Ooh, somebody needs a nap." Shalimar wasn't cowed. "How long before those pain-killers kick in?"

            Brennan tugged the crate into the main house. "Jess, I hereby release you from unloading the Helix. Shalimar and Emma will do your share. Get to work on the generator. Ladies, after you."

*          *          *

            Captain Tanikopolis was bored, and grateful that the time that young Prescott and his friends had paid for had just about run out. The quartet had entertained themselves on the top deck, during which time Tanikopolis had made himself scarce down below decks. He was no prude, but watching a group of randy teen-agers go at it wasn't his style.

            Now the quartet was sequestered below, no doubt performing similar acts, and Tanikopolis was stuck above. He cast a weather-wise eye up to the heavens. The forecast had called for a hurricane forming far off in the Atlantic. The last report on the radio said that the storm had changed course, and was now expected to head in this direction.

            Tanikopolis wasn't concerned. He had plenty of time to get back to shore and tie down everything that needed tying down to weather the blow. There were clouds in the sky, but not ones he needed to worry about.

            Boredom was what he was concerned with at present. He caught sight of the magazine that his sister had foisted on him. Then he looked around for something more entertaining.

            A giggle floated up from below decks. Sighing, Tanikopolis reached for the magazine.

            Something gently rocked the boat. Cursing under his breath, Tanikopolis went to the rail to identify the sea denizen. Sometimes there was a playful pod of killer whales, or once he'd inadvertently sailed through a shark feeding frenzy where the sharks didn't care what their teeth grabbed as long as it was within reach.

            This was different. This was a woman. A woman with long green hair. Not the I've-got-seaweed-in-my-hair green, but a blonde sort of green that wasn't washing out in the salt water. The kind that looked disturbingly natural. The magazine slipped from his fingers and hit the water with a small splash. The sea-going woman snatched it from the waves, and dove deep. And didn't come back up.

            Tanikopolis froze. It wasn't fair. He hadn't had a drop of vodka for the last week.

            Maybe he'd switch to whiskey.

*          *          *

            "All right, I've got good news and bad news," Jesse announced. A chorus of groans greeted him. "The good news is, it won't take much to fix the generator. We'll have refrigeration, cooking facilities, and best of all, air-conditioning, thank you very much Brennan Mulray."

            "And the bad?" Shalimar didn't let him get away.

            "I need parts from the main island. It won't take long. Just a hop, skip, and a jump from here. I can be back before the sun goes down."

            "You'd better," Brennan said. "I listened to the radio. That storm is going to pass closer than we thought. We're going to need to batten down the hatches, or whatever you do on an island retreat in the path of a hurricane."

            Emma shuddered, glancing out at Adam asleep on the lounge. "Is it safe to be here?"

            Jesse nodded. "This place has been here for at least twenty years. I imagine it can survive another hurricane."

            "I don't suppose we can just hook Brennan up to the generator for a while."

            "Hah." Brennan threw Shalimar a dirty look, then perused the clouds in the sky. A large number had gathered ominously. "Maybe you'd better get going. I don't particularly want you crashing the Helix somewhere in a hurricane, stranding us here on this island."

            "Like that could happen."

            "The way you fly, bro?"

            "Can you just go and hurry back?" Emma broke in. "Guys, that storm is coming in fast."

            They were interrupted by a yell from the patio. It was Adam.

*          *          *

            "I'm telling you, she had green hair," Adam insisted. "And no, Brennan, it was not a hallucination."

            "Okay, Adam."

            "What did she look like?" Emma butted in, trying to head off a confrontation.

            Adam was barely mollified. "Five foot five, approximately one hundred ten pounds. Slender. Light skin, a mild tan. Dressed in a very skimpy bikini. And yes, she had long green hair down to her waist. I woke up with her standing over me. She grabbed my wrist, I yelled, and she ran into the ocean."

            Jesse came up on the tail end of Adam's recitation. He shrugged. "Could've been. I didn't see anyone, but the waves are a bit choppy from the storm."

            Brennan tried to keep his disbelief from showing. "Did she say anything, Adam?"

            "Not a word." Adam struggled to a sitting position, Emma helping. "As soon as I yelled, she high-tailed it out of here."

            "Shal?" Brennan turned to the feral who came up after Jesse, shaking the sand from her sandals.

            "Sorry, Adam." Shalimar shrugged. "There could have been someone, but I couldn't tell. No tracks, no scent on the sand; not that this sand will hold anything anyhow. Nothing in the bushes, either."

            "It wasn't a hallucination!" Adam insisted. "She was here!"

            "I'm not saying it was." But Brennan wasn't convinced. "We'll keep looking, Adam."

            "Come inside, Adam," Emma urged. "It's cooler in here."

            "Stop nurse-maiding me, Emma. It's getting tiresome."

            "This isn't nurse-maiding, Adam." Emma's voice took on a sharper tone. "If there is someone out there, I want you inside where they have to go through me to get to you."

            Adam stared at her. "Then you do believe me."

            "Yes."

            "You saw her?"

            "No."

            "But—?"

            Emma pointed to a spot on the floor. It was damp.


	2. Surf and Turf 2

            "I'm not sure who's got the toughest job: you and me, Jesse, or Emma." Brennan and Shalimar stood on the beach, flipping a mental coin for who would go north and who would go south around the perimeter of the island.

            "No contest," Shalimar said. "Emma."

            "Yeah." On second thought, Brennan agreed with the feral. Emma had volunteered to stay with Adam while Brennan and Shalimar searched the island for signs of the green-haired girl. Neither one really believed that the girl had plunged into the ocean and swum into the deep blue depths. In fact, the girl's whole existence was in question, there being little to no evidence that someone more substantial than a hallucination had been present. Adam was upset and pacing over the whole incident, barely allowing himself to be led inside and wanting to lead the search himself. It took all of Emma's tact to calm him down, and Brennan privately thought that Emma had finally resorted to a mild psionic jolt to accomplish it.

            Jesse had taken the Helix to get the parts to fix the generator. As much as the molecular wanted to join the search, if he didn't leave immediately he wouldn't be able to return in time before the edge of the hurricane hit. And while he was a good pilot, pushing the Helix through gale force winds was something every good pilot avoided if he wanted to become an _old_ good pilot. That was Emma's other task while Brennan and Shalimar conducted a search: to keep in contact with Jesse high up in the sky. Jesse intended to do a quick fly-over of the island, to see if he could see any sign of Adam's mysterious visitor.

            "Not a sign," came Jesse's voice over the radio, crackling slightly. "I see the ruins in the north. They look untouched."

            "What ruins, Jesse?"

            "Didn't I tell you about those? Some Spanish conquistadors back in the seventeenth century built it as a fortress against pirates. Not much is left, but they're pretty—" _crackle, crackle_. "I was planning on a picnic lunch there in the watch tower some afternoon while we're here. I was even hoping to explore inside." _Crackle, crackle_. "It's all sealed off, so I was never able to get in when I was here as a kid. Now I have easy access whenever I want." _Static hiss_.

            "Do you see anything that looks like life?" Emma could feel Adam's eyes on her back, imploring the molecular to reply in the affirmative.

            "Nothing on land. I see Shalimar, heading north toward the ruins." There was a pause. "I'm going to head over to the mainland now. I'll be flying pretty low so that I can scan the ocean for anything that looks like Adam's visitor. I'm setting the sensors to search for anything warm-blooded, and smaller than a dolphin. I'll call in the results when I get back. Jesse out."

            Emma turned back to Adam with an especially bright smile. "They're all looking, Adam."

            "And haven't found anything yet."

            "You didn't expect it to be easy, did you?"

            "I could always hope." Adam couldn't be cranky with Emma. She had taken his side. Emma gave a little mental 'nudge' to push Adam toward sleepiness, counting on the remnants of his pain-killers to do the rest.

*          *          *

            "It's him." The green-haired girl was definite. She pointed to the cover of the soggy magazine that she had retrieved from the surface of the ocean when it had been dropped overboard. "There's no doubt about it. It was him."

            "Do the air people know about him?" The speaker was the leader of the small group, a great hulking merman who wore his own green hair close-cropped to his skull for better speed through the water. The webbing between his fingers was large, flopping in folds when he closed his fist. He listened intently to the girl, entranced by her words, although the more observant of the group would sardonically note that he was equally entranced by her figure. He rubbed those webbed fingers together, wishing that he could rub them against her cheek.

            Quick-Fin briefly caught her brother's eye, in the back of the crowd, then quickly turned back to Tidal-Wave, giving him a wide-eyed innocent look. "No," she lied.

            Tidal-Wave considered. "We must find out more about this land-dweller," he declared, "before the air people discover his presence and seek to destroy him and the other intruders. He may be our salvation." He tested the water around him, frowning. "A storm approaches. We will take foot on the beach after it passes. Everyone, prepare."

*          *          *

            It wasn't alarm this time, it was determination. Neither was it auditory. Emma felt the first emotional stirrings some thirty minutes after Jesse had signed off, radioing that he hadn't seen any signs of intelligent life, including the visitors already on the island.

            "Brennan and Shalimar are intelligent," Emma had rebutted his feeble attempt at humor.

            "That's up for debate. Helix out."

            Emma had settled in for a meditation session, casting around for intelligent human thoughts herself, anything that might account for Adam's green-haired girl. There was nothing to indicate that she was anything more than a narcotic-induced hallucination. Brennan had laughed at Emma's pointing out the damp area, noting that Adam's glass, still filled with melting ice, could easily have collected enough condensation to drip onto the floor.

            But Adam seemed so certain. Which is why when he called to her telempathically, without alarm, she hustled to his bedroom.

            Adam was sitting up in bed, covers awry, staring at something outside the window. He held up his arm to stop her. "There's another one. Don't scare her away."

            "Who, Adam?"

            "Outside. This one has blue hair. And wings."

            "Wings?" Emma struggled to peer around the window enough to see what Adam was looking at. Whatever, or whoever, Adam was staring at, Emma couldn't detect any psychic activity of any sort. "Where?"

            "Just beyond that tree. Don't come any closer; she'll bolt. Damn, there she goes." Adam threw back the covers and darted to the window. "She's gone. Damn. Damn, damn," he groaned as his knees gave out. "Did you see her, Emma?"

            "Sit down before you fall down," she scolded, grabbing him around the waist and easing the man back onto the bed. 

            "But did you see her?"

            "No," Emma was forced to admit. "The angle was wrong. What did she look like?"

            "Like the classic artist's rendition of an angel. Big white wings. Blue hair, crystal blue like the sky. I think she had blue eyes, but I was too far away to tell. She was looking in at me." He turned back to the empath. "She knew I was looking at her, Emma. There was intelligence in her eyes. This was no bird. This was a living, breathing, flying human." A smile lit Adam's face. "Think of it, Emma! That was a perfect, natural mutation! There was nothing like it at Genomex! Somehow these people have acquired a naturally occurring mutation that managed to fix itself in their genome. Think of the advances we could make by studying them!"

            Adam grew serious. "Call Brennan and Shalimar. Let them know to look for people with wings. We have to find them, Emma!"

*          *          *

            "Birds." Shalimar did not sound thrilled at Adam's discovery. "People with wings. When is that pain-killer supposed to wear off, Emma?"

            "Give him the benefit of the doubt, Shalimar," Emma pleaded. "You know that he's come up with amazing discoveries before."

            "In a test tube, sure. Adam's the best. But right now, Emma, only _he_ has seen these people with weird hair. None of the rest of us can find any trace of these supposed people. What are we supposed to think?"

            "Did you find any trace of them on the island?" Emma pushed ahead.

            "Nope. I found Jesse's ruins, though. They're pretty neat, all covered with vines and moss. Plan for a picnic here later in the week, after the storm blows through." Shalimar sniffed the air, scanning the horizon. "But not a sign of intelligent life. Bunches of hermit crabs, and lots of little sparrow birds—"

            "Bananaquits," Emma interjected helpfully, identifying the species.

            "Lots of little birds," Shalimar repeated. "But no people. Have you heard from Brennan?"

            "He's going a bit slower than you. Says the beaches are a little more rocky on the south side of the island."

            "I'll meet him on the far side, and we'll cut across to the bungalow." Shalimar still found it hard to term the six bedroom mansion a 'small bungalow.'

*          *          *

            Quick-Fin and her brother Sharp-Coral were the first to reach their meeting point, a rocky ledge that raised itself a short distance above the waves. It was an ideal spot: not easily seen from land, sea, or air. They both looked grim and determined. Sharp-Coral hauled himself up onto the ledge, giving his sister a hand to slither onto the wet rock beside him.

            They didn't have long to wait. Moments later they heard what they had expected: a flurry of wings. Two of the air people touched lightly down on the ledge beside them.

            And embraced.

            "I've missed you," Sharp-Coral told the girl, caressing the blue hair that melted naturally into the white wings. She felt so light in his arms, so unlike the rest of his people but so unerringly right to him. Feather nuzzled him, fitting into his arms with the ease of long and longed-for practice.

            Quick-Fin had sought out the other aerialist. Talon pinned her laughingly against the rock wall, stealing a kiss and then another. Quick-Fin grabbed Talon by the neck and jumped onto him, swinging her webbed toes around his slender torso. Talon proved that, while hollow-boned and light to traverse the skies, the air people were far from feeble.

            They didn't have much time for reunions. Reluctantly, they sat down, nestled against one another, to discuss their plans.

            "Did you see him?" Quick-Fin asked.

            Feather nodded. "But he was indoors. I couldn't get to him."

            "Did he see you?"

            "Yes."

            "Was he intrigued?"

            "Yes. He watched me as long as he could. But then one of his friends came, and I had to leave." Feather looked pensive. "I think it may be difficult to get him away from them. They watch him very closely. Even when he is alone, they are nearby."

            "Are they friends, or are they his captors?" Sharp-Coral wanted to know. "We can fight them."

            "I think they are his friends, although he argues frequently with them," Feather replied. "I think he has been ill. He has slept most of the hours he has been here, while the others work around the dwelling. I have been watching them from afar."

            "If they are his friends, it will be easier," was Talon's opinion. "He will work to save them. We can go ahead with our plan. Did you speak to Tidal-Wave?"

            "Yes," said Quick-Fin. "He reacted just as we thought. He is readying our people to attack the land-dwellers. But we must time our actions very carefully. Tidal-Wave will arrive at the land-dwellers' house after the storm passes." She looked worried at Talon. "You are certain that your people know nothing of this scientist? They will not interfere?"

            Talon grinned. "They are far too busy playing in the drafts of wind. Many of our children are testing their new skills against the angry air from the storm." He shook his head, showing bright white teeth. "No, there is nothing to fear from my brothers and sisters, heart of my heart. We will slip in and steal away the scientist while his guardians are busy fighting Tidal-Wave and the rest of the sea-people." He absently stroked Quick-Fin shoulder, but didn't miss her quick response of pleasure. Tidal-Wave might long for this mermaid, but Talon was the one who owned her heart. "With the scientist's help, we will ensure our future."

*          *          *

            If he had time, Jesse would have given vent to a steady stream of curses. The winds at ten thousand feet were taking their cue from the approaching hurricane, throwing gusts this way and that and tossing the Helix around like a giant playing tennis solo against a brick wall. Three times the Helix had been thrown into a sharp dive, and Jesse was just barely able to pull it out before the craft was grabbed by the ten foot high waves.

            "Helix to base," he radioed. "Emma, this is taking longer than we'd planned. I'm getting some rough weather up here."

            "Can you make it in, Jesse? Turn back to the mainland if you have to."

            "Easier to land on the island," Jesse said stoutly, hoping that he was right. "I'm closer, I think. Whoa!"

            "Jesse!"

            "It's all right. Just another down draft. Hey, Emma, I'm getting something on the radar."

            "Never mind the radar, Jess. Just get back here in one piece."

            "No, Emma, listen. I never turned the sensors off. They're pinging now. Tell Adam that there are some warm bodies in the water below, bodies that are smaller than dolphins. Yow!"

            "Jesse!" Emma screeched.

            "Why can't we find a mutant who can control the weather?" Jesse groused. "I could really use him about now."

            Then—static.

            "Jesse?" Emma toggled the radio. "Jesse? Jesse, come in!"

            Adam came up behind her, taking a seat and coughing. "The Helix?"

            Emma nodded. "And Jesse. I can't raise him."

            Adam stiffened. But he only said, "Jesse's a good pilot."

            They both knew what he meant.

*          *          *

            "Shalimar? You got anything?" Brennan was growing bored. The scenery was lush and beautiful, but the overcast sky had him nervous. The wind was picking up, whipping palm fronds back and forth. Once Brennan had narrowly missed being conked on the head by a falling cocoanut.

            And the temperature was dropping. Instead of being a balmy afternoon on a Caribbean island, it was cooling off into a pre-hurricane chill. Brennan wished that he'd brought his wind-breaker along, not just for the wind but for the occasional droplet that couldn't wait for the storm proper to arrive.

            There was nothing here to see. No sign of Adam's green-haired girl, either on land or on sea. No sign of blue-haired girls with wings. Even the regular birds were taking shelter against the upcoming blow.

            "Not yet." There was a pause, during which Brennan knew that Shalimar was working up her courage to ask something uncomfortable. "Do you believe him?"

            "Emma does." Brennan avoided the question.

            "Do you?" Shalimar wouldn't let him wriggle away.

            Brennan sighed. "Shal, those pain-killers are potent stuff. They can cause hallucinations that seem pretty real. You know that."

            "Yeah." Shalimar seemed just as discouraged on her end. "How far are you?"

            "Coming close on the mid-way point. You?"

            "Not as far. I stopped to look over the ruins on the north end. They're neat, and definitely worth looking at. We'll have to go exploring, after the storm."

            "Hmm."

            "Brennan?"

            "Hang on, Shal. I spotted something."

            "Adam's blue and green people?"

            "Probably not. Just a trail in the bushes. Probably made by a deer or something." He sighed. The ideal situation right now would be to head back to the bungalow, find Jesse back and the generator already fixed, and a tall glass of lemonade waiting for him beside the bubbling hot tub with steaming hot scented water where they could all wait out the hurricane. "I'll check it out, then head for the midway point. I should be there in twenty minutes or so. Out."

            Shalimar sighed as well. The sole redeeming benefit to this hunt was the chance to get out and stretch her feral legs, and that benefit was rapidly growing old. She had her run, she'd sniffed the air, and found nothing. It was time to tell Adam that those women were simply his narcotic-stimulated imagination gone wild. The man needed to get out more, she decided on the spot.

            It wasn't until five minutes later that she realized that something was still troubling her. It was Brennan's last call. He was going to check out a trail through the bushes, made by some deer or something.

            There was only one problem: there were no deer on this island. The biggest land-traveling creatures, aside from themselves, were a few lizards that would fit in one hand and an immense fiddler crab that had taken refuge from its usual sunny rock in deference to the upcoming storm. None of them could create a trail of any size through the underbrush.

            Shalimar put her comm. ring up to her lips. "Brennan? You there?"

            No answer.

            Shalimar felt the first stirrings of alarm. "Brennan? Come in, Brennan. Talk to me, buddy."

            Still dead air.

            Her relaxed air vanished. Shalimar went on alert, feral senses keen. She tabbed the ring again. "Emma? I'm not reaching Brennan. He was checking out something bigger than a bread box, and I'm going to see what it was."

            "Shall I join you?"

            "No. I'll keep in touch. If there really is something, or someone out there, we'll want to keep someone with Adam. And pretty soon it's going to get very wet outside here. No use in both of us taking a shower. When's Jesse due back?"

            "Any minute," Emma lied. "He said he's having a rough time upstairs."

            "Well, tell him to get a move on. I'm getting a bad feeling about this. Shalimar out." She sniffed the air. Just the tang of the sea breeze, the green scent of leaves broken by the wind. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

*          *          *

            Brennan slammed the stone wall in frustration. This was _so_ not where he needed to be. From the looks of it, this was the inside of Jesse's Spanish fortress with no visible doors. The sole opening was a small area some ten body lengths above his head. The only way to get out was to fly.

            Which was approximately how he'd gotten in here. It was a classic decoy ploy, and Brennan Mulray the sucker who fell for it. Dangle a blue babe with wings in front of him, then hit him from behind while he was still goggling at her. Next thing he knew, Mrs. Mulray's little boy was falling into this stone prison.

            Normally he would have been able to get out. As his powers matured, Brennan had learned how to use the force from his electrical blast to shoot himself up into the air, and he was a natural enough athlete to land back on terra firma without breaking anything more than a sweat. Here, however, stuck in this stone silo, Brennan found himself standing in four inches of standing water. Water that stank from the moss and algae that grew and flourished, and threatened Brennan with parboiled oblivion if he were foolish enough to try to use his powers.

            He'd already tried climbing up the rough rock wall. It wasn't rough enough; he'd fallen back twice. A third time didn't look any more likely to succeed.

            He couldn't call for help, either. The thick stone prevented the signal from getting out or any signal getting in. Brennan Mulray was well and truly stuck.

            He sarcastically imagined what he could say if his ring did work. _"I've got good news and bad news, guys."_

_            Shalimar would say, "What, Bren?"_

_            He would answer, "The good news is that Adam is not crazy. He really did see a girl with long blue hair and wings, because I saw her, too. And he probably saw the green girl who likes to swim. I didn't see her, but I did feel her big brother conk me over the head from behind."_

            _"And the bad news?" That would be Jesse, always wanting to challenge him._

_            "The bad news, bro," Brennan would reply, "is that I am now their captive, and I have no idea why they want me, unless it's for my good looks."_

_            Whereupon Jesse would quip, "Better hope they're blind, then, Brennan."_

            Brennan slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.

*          *          *

            "He's alive," Emma reported. "I don't know where he is, but he's not dead. He's just very, very annoyed. I can feel him."

            "Not hurt?" Adam wanted to know.

            "Sore, maybe. Angry."

            "That sounds like someone is holding him," Shalimar translated, "which is like what I found on the beach. He was looking at something, or someone, who didn't leave any tracks in the sand. Someone else came up behind him and knocked him out. There were signs of him falling to the sand, then two or more someone's picking him up. Then footprints vanish."

            "The green haired girl," Adam said. There was no triumph in his voice, only grim determination.

            "Probably not. Brennan's no light weight. She had to have had help, probably the other couple sets of footprints that I saw. And, Adam, those footprints didn't belong to any dainty little girl. There are some large men types who are Brennan's size or larger. And, Adam," Shalimar said, "when I told you that the footsteps vanished, I mean that they _vanished_. Poof. They didn't track anywhere. Not into the ocean, not into the trees. Just vanished, as in 'beam me up, Scotty.' Or flapped their wings and flew."

            "We're not alone," Emma realized.

            Adam chose not to say: _I told you so._ Shalimar, for her part, gathered up her pack, stuffing some supplies in it.

            Adam stopped her. "Where do you think you're going?"

            "After Brennan. Your blue-haired date has done something with him."

            "I'm going with you." He couldn't help the cough that slipped out.

            "Not a chance." Shalimar didn't stop what she was doing. "You've already got pneumonia. You've got a concussion. You're staying here."

            "Then at least take Emma with you. I'll be fine until Jesse gets here."

            "Don't." Emma's voice was quiet. "You're not being fair, Adam."

            "Emma." Warningly.

            Shalimar looked up, worry for yet another teammate taking its turn. "What? What about Jesse? Emma? Adam, where's Jesse?"

            "We haven't heard from him in over an hour," Emma confessed. "He was flying through the edges of the storm. We lost radio contact."

            "Where was he?" Shalimar could feel the ice crawl through her veins.

            Adam sighed, no longer able to hide. "Near as we can figure, somewhere over the water some ten miles from here. If he went down, there's not a chance of survival."

            Shalimar turned back to her packing, stuffing items into the bag with reckless abandon, tears threatening to leak from her eyes. Adam halted her with a gentle hand on her wrist. "Shalimar, there's nothing you can do."

            "Yes, there is," she choked out, wishing it sounded more like a feral snarl.

            "What?"

            "I can find those damn water people of yours, and make them rescue Jesse. Then I'm going to tear a few feathers off those bird people until they tell me where they've got Brennan." She dashed a tear from her eye. "And don't try to stop me, Adam."

*          *          *

            Rain had started with a vengeance. Fat drops pelted the ground, striking Shalimar with the force of a stinging shower of hail. The sky had turned black, and the winds whipped through the palm trees, sending fronds and sand hurtling against her progress. She kept to the trees, using their bulk for whatever windbreak she could in order to cover distance. She kept low to the ground as well, allowing much of the gale-force winds to sweep well over her head. Feral senses were of no use in this situation; the wind passed by too quickly to be sampled, and any heat signature was lost in the storm.

            It seemed like a hopeless task, but Shalimar wouldn't give up. Her teammate was out here somewhere, and she was determined to find him. If she found Brennan, Shalimar reasoned, then she would undoubtedly find Adam's sea people, or wind people. Either way, she could rescue Brennan and somehow force his captors to help search for Jesse. Can't lose situation: gain a team member, and additional help. Shalimar refused to consider the alternative, that she wouldn't find anyone. Or, worse, that she'd find Brennan's lifeless body in a salt water bog.

            The wind roared more fiercely, nearly deafening her. Shalimar ducked instinctively, almost crouching to the island floor in an effort to escape the howling wind. No—it wasn't simply wind. Something massive passed overhead, crashing through the palm trees bent nearly double in the wind, neatly shearing off the tops.

            It was so large that she almost didn't recognize it. It was rare that Shalimar saw it from this angle: the Helix, on an intercept course with the ground. It broke through trees, sending leaves swirling about in the gale-force winds, coming in far too fast and at too steep an angle.

            "Jesse!" she screamed, heedless that her teammate couldn't hear her. The Helix slammed up against a rock wall that jutted up out of the center of the island, carving a rough path of broken vegetation for Shalimar to follow. It rocked back and forth, dumping velocity into the uncaring sand. An engine blew and sent up a shower of sparks that looked frighteningly bright against the gray of the rain. The droplets landed on the outer surface of the Helix and sizzled into vapor.

            "Jesse!" Shalimar screamed again. She activated her comm. ring. "Adam! Emma! The Helix just landed!"

            "Thank God!" Adam's voice held more relief than she could ever remember. "Is he all right?"

            "I don't know. The Helix crashed. I'm going in."

            "Be careful, Shalimar. Remember, we still don't know what happened to Brennan. Or who else is on this island. Watch your back."

*          *          *

            "Ow," said Jesse.

            "Be grateful you're alive," Adam said, supervising Emma's bandaging of the molecular's sprained ankle. "You were late getting back, and you ran into the hurricane. You should have stayed on the mainland, and come back after it blew through."

            Jesse winced, less from his ankle and more from a guilty conscience. "I honestly thought I could make it, Adam. I left in plenty of time. I was making good time, even using the hurricane winds to boost fuel efficiency."

            "But—?"

            "I saw these anomalies on sonar. Warm bodies, Adam, lots of 'em."

            "Dolphins?"

            "Not unless dolphins are now coming in miniature. These were not a pod of immature babies, Adam. This was a group of at least twenty or thirty, possibly more. Ow, Emma, take it easy."

            "Leave her alone," Adam ordered. "You were lucky to crawl out of the Helix alive."

            "Yeah." Jesse sobered. "Thanks, Shalimar."

            "You can thank me by getting the Helix up and running again," Shalimar told him. "You did a pretty nice job of mangling it."

            "It's gonna take a few days," Jesse acknowledged soberly. "I'll get started on it."

            "Not until the storm dies down," Emma told him. "We've already got one member of this team with pneumonia; you want to make it two?"

            "I can work from the inside."

            "You can work on the generator," Shalimar said. "Right now, we need that more. I'm going after Brennan. Emma, you up for a walk in the rain?"

            "Hey, wait a minute," Jesse protested. "I'll get pneumonia, but you won't?"

            Shalimar smirked. "We'll be working up a sweat, and then we'll sensibly come inside and dry off. You'd stay out there all day getting more and more soaked. C'mon, Emma."

*          *          *

            Frustrated, with a few dozen exclamation points after it. Brennan didn't bother pounding the stone wall any longer. As a stress relief, it had lost its effectiveness.

            No one had come by to check on him, either. It was hard to estimate time, but the storm hadn't died down, so Brennan guessed that it had only been a few hours at most. The wind whistled by overhead, occasionally throwing small twigs and leaves down on top of him. The detritus floated forlornly on the boggy water that surrounded his ankles.

            The one good thing about this prison was that it protected him against the hurricane. Only a drop or two made it past the opening above, although the level of water around his feet was slowly seeping higher. It had risen another four inches in the last hour. Even that would be a good thing; Brennan entertained thoughts of treading water until the level got him to where he could grasp the top grating and haul himself up and out.

            He felt cold and wet.

            "What a joke," he said out loud, more to have something to listen to than anything else. "If I get pneumonia in here, I'm never going to hear the end of it from Adam."


	3. Surf and Turf 3

            Emma carefully refrained from asking, _do you know where you're going?_ The feral wouldn't have appreciated it. But Emma couldn't see how, even with her heightened senses, Shalimar could possibly be leading them to Brennan.

            They started at the last place that Brennan had been heard from, the beach on the eastern rim of the island. The place was getting the worst of the hurricane; the storm was moving from east to west, pounding rain against the sand and pelting them with pebbles tossed into the air from the blasting. Any trace of footprints on the rocky beach were long gone, but that didn't seem to stop Shalimar. She got down on her hands and knees, sniffing the soggy beachfront. She cast around, right to left, her eyes feral-yellow and slitted, searching for clues. 

            She chose north. "This way."

            "I thought you came from that way. How could they have taken Brennan past you without you seeing them?"

            "Good question. One I intend to ask when I find Brennan."

            Emma didn't question her further, choosing instead to concentrate on keeping up through the underbrush. It was hard going, finding a spot to put her feet that wouldn't sink under the weight of all the water rising all over the island. But the advantage to Shalimar's route was that the trees broke the winds trying to push them off balance, and the broad palm leaves sheltered them from the rain as best they could. Twice Shalimar got doused by an overloaded palm leaf, but she shook it off grimly. She had more important things on her mind.

*          *          *

            "Perhaps we ought to enter the dwelling now," Feather said tentatively. "It's wet and cold out here. And there is only one of his guardians remaining."

            "It will be over soon," Sharp-Coral reassured her. His eyes searched her anxiously. "Perhaps we should send you back to your nest. I worry about you. Shouldn't you be in a nest?"

            "Soon," Talon broke in. "She can still fly, but not in this storm. I would be careful myself in this angry air. It is best to wait here, as we've planned."

            "Tidal-Wave approaches with the rest of my people," Sharp-Fin agreed, tossing her green hair and snuggling into the warmth of Talon's arms. "He will be here after the storm finishes. We have plenty of time; Tidal-Wave does not like the wet weather on land. As soon he attacks, we can slide in the back. Adam Kane's guardian will be too busy with Tidal-Wave to see us take him away with us."

            "But why have the other guardians gone out in the storm?" Feather fretted. "It makes no sense. They may be land-dwellers, but they are not fools. Why would all three of them go for a walk in the rain?"

            "Let us take advantage of their stupidity," Sharp-Coral said. "It will make our task easier."

            "We should follow them," Quick-Fin said. "They may appear foolish, but I do not trust them. They are clever. What if they are going out in the storm to lure us in? Other land-dwellers have tried to trap us, Sharp-Coral. What if this is a trap? Let us follow them and find out. The guardian inside and the scientist are not going anywhere. And Tidal-Wave will not attack for several hours, until the bottom of the sea settles."

            Talon considered her words, and found them disturbing. "I agree with Quick-Fin. There is no harm in following the female guardians, and we may discover where the tall man is hiding and why he has done so. Let us see what they are up to."

*          *          *

            Adam coughed savagely, trying to clear his lungs. The dust in the boiler room swirled up into the air, twinkling in the light of the hand-held torch. More dust lay on top of the over-sized water heater, waiting to waft off and cause more havoc. Jesse had the panel to the generator open, peering inside, trying to determine which wires were loose now that he'd replaced what needed replacing. He was keeping a lid on his temper; the generator ought to have been working by now. Jesse had done what needed to be done, now it was the generator's turn to cooperate. He tightened another wire, hoping to see a hopeful spark. Adam coughed again.

            Jesse spared him a glance. "I'm all right here. You want to go lie down?"

            "No, I don't want to go lie down. Stop treating me like an invalid."

            "You are an invalid," Jesse pointed out. "I can finish up here by myself. Take a nap."

            "_Take a nap_," Adam mimicked in annoyance. "Jesse, I've been taking care of you since you were a teen-ager. I think I know what to do, and being treated like a toddler is not it."

            "Adam, like it or not, you ran yourself into the ground through overwork. You're here for rest and recuperation. Live with it."

            "Some rest," Adam grumbled. "Marooned on a desert island with a downed Helix, and Brennan missing. I'd get more relaxation in Sanctuary. With power and air conditioning, I might add."

            Jesse ignored his plaint. "Hand me the Phillips."

            "You've already got it. It's by your foot."

            "Thanks." Jesse retrieved the screwdriver from just beyond his knee, pausing to rub his sprained ankle. "The generator should be up and running in a few moments. Just another wire here—"

            "What was that?"

            Jesse looked up. "What was what?"

            "I thought I heard something."

            "Your green-haired girl?" But Jesse got to his feet, balancing awkwardly on one foot, indicating how seriously he took the older man's words despite the flip words.

            "Maybe." Adam too got to his feet, hacking as he did so. "Let's go check it out."

*          *          *

            Shalimar looked around. The rain had gotten suddenly heavier, though it felt like the last gasp before the end of the downpour. Both women were drenched, hair plastered flat against their cheeks and raingear no longer effective at shedding even a small percentage of water. "They're gone."

            Emma tried to see what Shalimar was talking about. "Who's gone?"

            "I don't know. But we were being watched, not too close. Now they've gone."

            Emma too looked around, casting through the area with her mind. "I can't 'feel' anyone."

            "You didn't 'feel' anyone when Adam saw his mermaid and his angel, either, girl. Maybe they're on a different mental wavelength."

            "That's a very uncomfortable idea, Shalimar. I hope you're wrong."

            "Why? What's so bad about not being able to read someone's emotions, Emma? You're always saying how you'd like to be able to relax and not worry about other minds seeping into yours."

            Emma hunched her shoulders. "This is different."

            "How so?"

            Emma thought for a moment, deciding how best to explain. "Shal, when you use your powers, you can sense everyone around you. You know where they are, everything physical about them. It's your choice, when you go feral."

            "Right. Your point?"

            "What if there were people who could hide from your feral senses? That would make you really nervous, right? I mean, right now it's your choice whether or not to acknowledge them. You know that they're there, you can interact whenever you please. But if you can't sense them, that's a power they have over you."

            "Ah." Shalimar understood. "It's a matter of choice, isn't it, Emma? You don't really want to 'listen' to them, but you want the option of doing it or not."

            Emma nodded. "And right now, I don't seem to have that. You're telling me that they're here, all around us, but to my mind they're invisible. And that frightens me." She tried to peer through the droplets. The rain was doing its best to lighten up, and she hoped that the worst of the hurricane was over. "What's that big black thing up ahead?"

            "That? That's the old Spanish fortress that Jesse was talking about. It was deserted a few centuries ago." Shalimar peered more closely, her attention caught by something that Emma couldn't fathom. "At least, that's what it looked like when I went through here a few hours ago."

            "And now—?" Emma prompted.

            "And now, I'm not certain." Shalimar's eyes narrowed, and went golden. Emma could see the cat-like movements take over, the careful placement of one foot after the other, not disturbing so much as a blade of grass. In between movements Shalimar froze so much that even Emma, tuned in to her team mate, could barely see her against the soggy foliage.

            "Someone's here," Shalimar announced quietly. "There has been a large group of someones, at least a dozen, and most of them have left."

            "Most? Are there sentries?" Emma tried to find someone, anyone, in the brush.

            It was entirely too long before Shalimar answered. "No. Not nearby. But there is someone in the fortress itself." She motioned to Emma. "Let's check it out."

            The fortress was hot and steamy with the remnants of the hurricane. Wisps of fog crept up from the ground, wreathing the stones in white mist that disappeared eerily into the unnatural darkness of the cloud-covered afternoon. To Shalimar's eyes it looked as clear as broad daylight. Emma wished she could tap into the feral's mind and see as plainly as she did.

            The majority of the fortress was a cacophony of fallen square boulders, tumbled there by ancient cannons, now by weather and time. Moss crept over the north side of most of them. It had been a square edifice, and the corner towers still stood as fallen bulwarks to the past. Toward the far corner the tower there had remained in remarkably good condition, despite its age. It looked sturdy enough to house someone for a short time and protect them from the weather. It rose some fifty feet in the air, and Emma idly wondered how the Spaniards had managed to engineer it so well that it was still standing after four centuries. But that was the spot that Shalimar was heading for. That was where she had detected something out of the ordinary.

            Shalimar stiffened. She sniffed the air, and looked around, suspicion lighting her features. Then—

            "Brennan?"

            "Shalimar? Is that you?"

            "Brennan, where are you?" Emma called out. Shalimar knew better: she leaped the fifty feet straight up from a standing position to land on top of the tall tower. The feral peered down into the depths, her eyes automatically adjusting to the lower light levels.

            "Brennan, you looked soaked."

            "Thanks." A bathtub's worth of water had seeped in, and was lapping at Brennan's knees, but no where near enough to lift him up close enough to the top. "Now how about getting me out of here?"

            Shalimar pulled a rope out of her pack and surveyed it ruefully. "That may be a problem, Brennan. I've got forty feet of rope. You're another ten feet below surface level. By my count, that leaves us some twenty feet short. And unless you've developed some feral traits that I'm unaware of, jumping that distance is not something you're going to be able to do."

            Brennan had to agree. "How about Jesse? Can he phase a hole through the wall at ground level?"

            "It's a thick wall, but I think he could do it. One problem, though: he's not here. He's back at the bungalow, fixing the generator." Shalimar didn't share the molecular's close call with death and a slightly crunched Helix. That could wait for later.

            "How about calling him out here? This water's cold."

            "That may take a while—" Shalimar started to say, then froze. "Emma, get down!" she yelled.

            Emma dove to the ground in time to avoid being scooped up by a large winged man. He screamed in frustration, sounding much like a peregrine falcon deprived of its prey, and soared up into the clouds. He disappeared, no doubt preparing for a second stoop.

            Shalimar leapt into the air, tumbling into an automatic roll. She grabbed a second blue-haired being that tried to streak by her, seizing the winged woman by the arm and pulling her down from the sky through sheer combined weight.

            The girl cried out, but Shalimar hung on determinedly, landing on the ground on her feet and wrapping the girl's arm behind her in a lock. It wasn't easy, Shalimar discovered, to apply a half-Nelson with a pair of over-sized wings in the way. Feathers beat at her frantically. Shalimar squeezed tighter.

            "I can keep this up longer than you can," she snarled into the girl's ear. The winged girl went limp in submission.

            "Let her go!" demanded a masculine voice, the command barely masking his concern. The other blue-haired aerialist alighted, wings remaining open and ready for battle. "Let her go! She's done you no harm."

            Emma moved into position, ready to defend. "Get our friend out of that dungeon."

            "What friend? Release my sister, or suffer the consequences!" He moved forward.

            Emma didn't give way. "Why did you capture him? We weren't any threat to you."

            "Out of my way!" Blue-boy aimed a blow at Emma's head. She blocked automatically and followed up with a swift kick. He whoofed, and fell back. The expression on his face was more shock and surprise than pain.

            "Emma, watch out! There's another one!" Shalimar called.

            There was no time for subtlety. Emma summoned her powers, and aimed a psionic discharge at the green-haired man running full out at them, murder in his eyes. Emma had just enough time to register the webbing between his clenched fingers before blasting him off his feet and barreling him into the stone wall.

            "Enough!" Shalimar barked. "One more move, and I'll break her neck!"

            That halted both men, as well as the green-haired beauty that was approaching fast in her brother's wake. Only Emma knew that the feral was bluffing. Shalimar didn't have it in her to kill in cold blood. But their opponents didn't know that.

            "Let her go," the merman said. But his voice showed his uncertainty. Shalimar and Emma were outnumbered, but not outgunned.

            "Get my friend out of there," Shalimar countered, indicating the stone dungeon with her chin.

            "We didn't put him there."

            "Really? I don't see anyone else around here," Shalimar challenged.

            "Please don't hurt her," the merman begged, losing ground fast.

            Shalimar pressed her advantage. "Oh, I don't intend to hurt her. I intend to kill her," she threatened, lying through her teeth, "unless you do exactly as you're told. So, you. You with the wings. Hop up to the top of that tower and get him out of there." She pressed the girl's arm a bit higher, pushing a frightened squeal out of her.

            "Talon, do it!" The merman was almost frantic with fear.

            "I'll do it," Talon snarled, his voice cracking. "Don't hurt my sister." He jumped into the air, wings beating great puffs of air to lift the large bird-like being. He landed on the top of the tower, and, with a backward glare at Shalimar, disappeared into the depths.

            "Now, you." Shalimar turned her attention to the green-haired sea people that still faced her. "What's this all about? Why did you attack us?"

            They looked at each other, then back at the feral, sullen-faced. Shalimar pressed a little squeak out of her captive. The man broke at once.

            "Don't hurt her! Feather had nothing to do with this!"

            "Interesting name, Feather." Emma kept her distance, in order to better counter-attack if the two water people should try anything. Despite her powers being of no use, Emma was not helpless. She didn't need her powers to see that the pair in front of her were barely more than kids themselves, despite their bravado. They also looked panic-stricken. They looked like a group who had suddenly found that they had taken on more then they could handle.

            Emma chose to respond accordingly, giving Shalimar the signal to follow. "My name is Emma. This is Shalimar. We don't want to hurt you, but we will defend ourselves. Why did you capture our friend and put him in the dungeon?"

            "We didn't," the girl said sullenly. "I'm Quick-Fin, and this is my brother Sharp-Coral. We didn't do anything to your friend."

            "Well, someone did," Shalimar retorted, playing bad cop to Emma's good cop.

            "It must have been my people," Feather said from Shalimar's grasp. "They didn't know you were here. They must have found him alone, and put him where he couldn't hurt them."

            "Then why are you here?"

            "We followed you," Quick-Fin explained. "We wanted to know what you were doing here."

            "Some vacation," Shalimar muttered. "Jesse sure knows how to pick 'em."

            There was a loud exclamation of surprise from inside the dungeon; Shalimar and Emma exchanged satisfied glances. Brennan was on his way out. Moments later the elemental was on soggy land, his clothes wringing wet, Talon landing beside him.

            "Now release my sister," Talon demanded. "Do as you promised."

*          *          *

            Not good. Both Adam and Jesse heard the creaking of floor boards as more than one somebody crossed the patio, all trying to remain silent. Jesse tried to estimate how many: at least four, probably more. It sounded like a crowd, all breathing quietly but slapping wet feet against the floor. Jesse winced, hoping that the water wouldn't ruin the finish on the wood flooring. He already had enough to explain to Mr. Prescott. He raised his eyebrows at Adam: _shall we confront them?_

            Adam shook his head: _no. Too many of them_. He raised his comm. ring and spoke as quietly as he could. "Shalimar? Emma? Can you hear me?"

            "Right here, Adam." Shalimar's voice sounded calm and in control. "We've got Brennan. He's a bit soggy, but all right."

            "Good. Get back here. Jesse and I have got visitors, and I don't think it's the Welcome Wagon."

            "On the way." Shalimar's voice acquired a sense of urgency. Given the circumstances, Adam was not displeased.

            He turned back to Jesse. "How about a back door?"

            "By all means." Jesse limped to the outside wall of the generator room, placed his hand against an open spot, and exhaled. The wall quivered, and turned insubstantial. Adam slipped through, making sure that Jesse too exited onto the beach and allowed the wall to regain its solidity. He pointed to the tree line; cover and escape. Jesse nodded, and made his way there, favoring his bad ankle. Adam stifled a cough. No use in telling their opponents where they were.

            They didn't have much of a respite. From inside rose a shout of rage; the intruders had discovered that their prey had escaped. Almost a dozen green-haired men boiled out of the bungalow, waving spears and yelling. They spotted the pair immediately, just before they plunged into the trees.

            "Run!" Adam yelled. He grabbed Jesse by the arm, intending to haul him along.

            "Keep going!" Jesse shouted back. A spear was flung; Jesse stopped to mass solid. The spear bounced against his chest, not reaching Adam as it had apparently been meant to do. "I'll hold them off!"

            "There are too many of them!" Adam wasn't about to leave the molecular.

            "Adam, I can't keep these spears away from me, and you too! Run!"

            Jesse was right. He wouldn't be able to escape, not with his bad ankle. Adam had to get away, to warn the others, and to mount a rescue. Jesse would be all right; he could phase either way, and the spears wouldn't hurt him. Not unless there were too many at once, and Jesse couldn't stay phased long enough.

            Adam ran. The trees slowed his pursuers down, but they slowed his own progress as well. Fronds whipped by, slapping at his cheeks. Low growing vines threatened to trip him. He worked at saving enough breath for his comm. ring. "Shalimar! Emma! I'm in trouble here."

            "Ten minutes, Adam." The feral would be outpacing the others, Adam knew, which meant even more back up in fifteen. He hoped it would be enough time.

            He burst into a clearing. Good, that would buy him a few seconds. But an arrow zoomed in front of him, missing his arm by inches.

            Adam jerked to a halt. An arrow? The sea people carried spears. But there, on the other side of the clearing, floated at least a dozen blue-haired men, all using large white wings to keep themselves several feet up in the air. And each one held a tall and vicious looking bow. As he watched, they took aim.

            That was enough. Adam turned around and dashed off into the trees, back the way he had come.

            And ran straight into the green-haired mermen. They grabbed him, twisting his arms painfully behind him, immobilizing him thoroughly. 

            The largest merman stuck his face into Adam's field of vision. "I am Tidal-Wave," he announced, "and you will do as I say or I will kill you."

            Adam subsided in the merman's grasp. Escape was not yet possible, but help was on the way. All he had to do was stay alive until then, though Shalimar's ten minutes now seemed like an eternity. "Where's Jesse?" he asked.

            The merman ignored him. "Bring him," he commanded.

            "Tidal-Wave!" called out one man. "The air people! They're here!"

            Tidal-Wave looked around in alarm. "Move quickly!" he ordered. "Take the scientist back to the bungalow. Quickly!"

            The air people attacked, flinging arrows at them. The mermen retreated into the trees, spoiling their aim, escaping. One merman went down with an arrow through his leg; another stayed behind to drag him out of danger. One aerialist took a spear through his wing and retreated with three others keeping the wounded man safely airborne. 

            Tidal-Wave himself took charge of Adam, frog-marching him along the trail back toward the bungalow. The aerialists fell behind, though Adam could still hear their wings beating above the tops of the trees, looking for an opportunity to send a well-aimed arrow through the leaves.

            They burst onto the beach. "Jesse!" Adam shouted.

            The molecular was down, but not out. No fewer than six mermen surrounded him, each now sporting a bruise or black eye, testament to his determination not to be taken. Each time a spear would be poked at him, Jesse would mass solid. The spears had taken on a suspiciously blunt looking edge, and two had even cracked in half and been tossed to the side.

            "Surrender!" Tidal-Wave commanded the molecular. "Or the scientist dies!"

            Jesse swayed, steadied himself against the wall of the bungalow. "Adam?"

            "It's all right, Jesse," Adam said, hoping Jesse would understand what he was trying to say. Some of Emma's telempathic powers would have been welcome right now. Non-verbal signals would have to do, anything to communicate that he had gotten through to the others, that they were on their way to rescue Adam and Jesse. "They've got us. Stop fighting."

            Jesse slumped, exhausted, shoulders drooping. He held up his hands. "Okay, guys. No more. Uncle."

            His attackers moved in cautiously, wary despite his surrender. Adam suppressed a smile; Jesse had taught them a lesson about taking on a supposedly outnumbered opponent. Two took him gingerly by the arms, clearly hoping that he wouldn't ghost away leaving them holding thin air.

            Jesse didn't. There would be time for that later.

            "To the ocean," Tidal-Wave said. "Bring them both."

            Not good. Adam wasn't in the mood to be drowned. "Hey, wait a minute. We can't breathe underwater like you can."

            "Quiet, land-dweller." Tidal-Wave back-handed him. Adam's head rocked back. He saw stars. Blood rushed through his head, filling his ears with sound.

            No, it wasn't blood. It was the rushing of wings. The air people had circled around and were coming up the beach. Arrows peppered the sand in front of him.

            "Back!" Tidal-Wave was no fool. "The dwelling! Take cover!" He hustled Adam along, jerking him almost off of his feet.

            More arrows whistled past. One sliced a deep gash in Tidal-Wave's arm, though the merman ignored it, shouting more commands at his watery troops. Another winged man dropped to the sand with a spear through his heart, red blood bubbling out past his lips.

            "Jesse!" Adam yelled, trying to break free. The molecular was farther away from cover, still held securely in the grasp of two mermen. As Adam watched, more arrows were launched. One dropped one of Jesse's captors to the sand, screaming, with an arrow through his thigh.

            Another took Jesse below the ribs.

            Adam felt the world stop. Jesse slowly crumbled into the other captor's grasp, sinking to the sand. One hand went to the arrow as if trying to pull it out. _This can't be happening! Phase, Jesse! Let the arrow pass through you!_ It was already too late. Jesse turned a stricken face to his mentor, not able to believe what had happened.

*          *          *

            "Adam's in trouble." Shalimar turned to the others. "There's an assault team at the house."

            "My people," Quick-Fin identified. "Tidal-Wave intended to capture the scientist soon after the storm. I did not expect him to move quite so quickly. I believed that he would wait until morning, when the sea had calmed."

            "I don't care if it's aliens from outer space," Shalimar snarled. "Tell him to stop."

            "He won't listen to us," Sharp-Coral said. "He believes that the scientist will be able to cure us."

            "What do you mean?"

            "I found a magazine," Quick-Fin explained. "It had washed overboard. It showed the scientist at work. It said that he could cure many people." She looked obstinate. "If he can cure so many people, why not mine?"

            "Look, we _so_ do not have time for this," Brennan cut in. "Yes, Adam's a great scientist, but your folks are trying to kill him."

            "Tidal-Wave won't kill him," Sharp-Coral averred. "He too believes that your scientist can save us."

            "I'm going on ahead," Shalimar announced. "You guys follow as soon as you can. I'm not waiting, and I'm not going to dawdle." She bounded off, hurtling into the trees toward the western edge of the island where the bungalow was located.

            Brennan turned to the four. "Talk."

*          *          *

            "He's dying!" Adam raged, struggling to get away from Tidal-Wave. "Let me see to him."

            The sea people had retreated inside the bungalow, pulling their wounded along with them, tracking blood and mud across the veranda and into the main living space. Tidal-Wave roughly thrust Adam into an over-stuffed chair. Mermen carried in the wounded and laid them on other chairs or on the rug-covered floor when the chairs were filled up. One pulled the damask curtain off of a window to use to staunch the blood flow from the merman who'd taken an arrow to the thigh. 

            "We too are dying, land-dweller," Tidal-Wave said gruffly. Blood oozed from the scrape on his arm, but he ignored it. "Cure us, and I will let you minister to your friend."

            "That may be too late!"

            "Then you had best get started." Tidal-Wave remained implacable.

            "Tidal-Wave," called one of the merman, scanning the beach outside. "The air people are still there. They seek to keep us from the water."

            Tidal-Wave went himself to see, looking through several of the windows, observing those all around the bungalow. What he saw did not please him: there were at least a dozen of the winged people positioned all around the bungalow from the beachfront to the back where the hot tub was located. He returned in time to watch two of his men carry Jesse in and deposit the molecular mutant on the sofa. Jesse groaned as they set him down, another gush of bright red blood surging out around the arrow protruding from just above his belt.

            "Please let me see to him," Adam begged. The two mermen holding him by the arms wouldn't release him, forcing Adam to remain seated.

            "As soon as you cure us," Tidal-Wave insisted. "I would start now, if I were you. Your friend may not have long to live."

            "But I can't work that fast!" Adam raged, breaking down into a frustrated cough. "You're asking the impossible! Research like this takes years."

            "You haven't got years," Tidal-Wave said. "Neither does he. Begin."

            "All right." Adam was beaten—for now. "You say you're dying. What's killing you? Give me details, fast." _Brennan, Shalimar, Emma—now would be a good time for a rescue! Emma, can you read me?_

            But Tidal-Wave remained frustratingly slow, drawing it out. Adam couldn't take his eyes off of Jesse. The molecular's hands had crept to his wound to try to apply enough pressure to stop the pain. Adam tried to concentrate on Tidal-Wave. 

"How long do you expect to live?" asked Tidal-Wave, almost conversationally.

            "I don't know. Seventy-five or so. Maybe a hundred, if I'm lucky."

            "I am twenty-seven years old, and I am the oldest one of us all," Tidal-Wave told him. "None of us have ever lived past thirty."

            _No time for shock, for horror. Just hang on until help arrives._ "What happens?"

            "We age too swiftly," Tidal-Wave said. "Look at my hands." He held them out. The muscles were plain, demonstrating a life of hard work, but the skin was as wrinkled as an old man's. Adam could see that the subcutaneous fat layer was melting away. In someone without webbed hands and feet, Adam would have said that the hands belonged to an eighty-year-old.

            And they quivered with an old man's palsy. When he chose, Tidal-Wave could force them to draw an arrow on his bow, and could shoot as keenly as any of the younger members of his clan. But now, with the need for physical action abated, Tidal-Wave slowed down. He sat on the chair directly across from Jesse, watching the young molecular struggle to remain aware of his surroundings.

            "Find the answer, Dr. Adam Kane. Find a solution that will allow me and mine to live out our lives as people should, not be cut down without ever knowing our grandchildren."


	4. Surf and Turf 4

            "Shalimar? Brennan? Emma?"

            "Shalimar here, Adam. Are you all right?"

            "We're alive, for now." Adam avoided answering the question directly. "Listen, Shalimar, I need the computer from the Helix. Can you bring it here?"

            "What do you need it for?" Shalimar did her own share of avoidance, watching the blue-haired winged wonders dancing around the sky, occasionally loosing off an arrow at nothing in particular. Most bounced off the bungalow. Shalimar herself hid between several large green fronds, wondering how she'd ever cross the clearing to the bungalow without getting skewered. 

            Things did not look good, and Shalimar couldn't tell exactly what was going on inside either, and that did not make for a happy feral. Brennan and Emma came up beside her in the brush, the two pairs of islanders behind them. Shalimar held up a hand to keep them silent.

            "Never mind that now. Can you get it?"

            "Getting it is not going to be the problem, Adam. Getting it inside to you might be. There's a flock of people out here with bows and arrows, and I use the word 'flock' deliberately."

            Pause for thought. Then Adam came on again. "That might not be so good, Shalimar. I also need the portable medical lab in the back of the Helix. Please tell me that Jesse didn't crunch it when he crashed the Helix."

            "Brennan here, Adam. We've made a few new friends here. I think we can solve a couple of problems with their help. Just give us a few minutes."

            "Don't take too long, Brennan. Time is of the essence. Adam out."

            Emma looked up in alarm. "There's something he's not telling us."

            "Can't worry about that now." Brennan turned to the quartet. "How 'bout it, guys? If we get the computer and the medical lab, can you get it past the two factions? Both airborne and holed-up in the house?"

            The four, two winged and two webbed, looked doubtfully at each other. 

            "We can try," Quick-Fin said.

            "Good enough for now," Brennan told her. "Let's get the stuff."

*          *          *

            "I thought we left this behind," Shalimar grumbled. She hoisted the crate that contained part of the portable medical lab, wishing that it weren't so heavy. "I thought Adam wasn't supposed to be doing any work. Recuperating, instead."

            "I think he somehow managed to sneak it in," Emma replied. "I know the computer was Jesse's doing. I don't think Jesse can stand to go a day without logging on. He was probably worried about internet withdrawal." She handed the laptop to Feather. "Don't drop that. Especially don't drop it into the sand. If that thing crashes, we are all sunk." She spoke to her comm. ring. "Brennan? How are you and Sharp-Coral and Talon coming with the rest of the medical lab?"

            "Slow going," Brennan reported. "You ready?"

            "We're about to walk in," Emma told him. "I'll keep the link open." She turned back to Quick-Fin and Feather. "All set?"

            Feather took a deep breath. "Let's go."

            The other three picked up parts of the medical lab, and joined her in stepping out onto the sandy beach for the short trek to the bungalow.

            The winged people immediately saw them. Arrows nocked into the bows, yet with Feather in the lead not one was loosed.

            The largest blue-maned man landed in front of them. "Feather, what are you doing?"

            "I am solving our problem, Quill," she said, determination edging out the fear in her voice. "Get out of my way."

            "It's a water person's problem, Feather," Quill snarled. "Why do you concern yourself with them?"

            "It's our problem, too, Quill," Feather insisted. "How many of our clan are old men and women?"

            "Dewclaw is almost forty."

            "Dewclaw is thirty-five, and feeble. These land-dwellers live to their seventies, Quill. I want to do that, too." Feather indicated her belly. "I want my child to live to be one hundred."

            "Your child! Who has mated with you, Feather?"

            "Let us past, Quill." Shalimar wasn't willing to wait for the winged leader to get over his outrage. "This equipment is needed inside."

            "_Make_ me, land-dweller."

            "Singing my tune, bird-brain." Shalimar carefully put her share of equipment on top of Emma's. The redhead sagged a bit, then struggled up under the load. "I'll keep the winged wonder busy. You get that stuff in to Adam."

            "Be careful, Shalimar," Quick-Fin warned. "He is a mighty fighter."

            "Hm. Cat. Bird. You decide who has the advantage."

            "Keep going, Feather," Emma ordered, hoping she was making the right decision in leaving Shalimar behind to distract the leader of the winged people. "Let's get this stuff inside." The trio—land-dweller, sea-dweller, and air-dweller—trooped on, approaching the veranda. Emma's last look of Shalimar was of the feral rolling up her sleeves with a look of pure enjoyment on her face. If Shalimar had had whiskers, she would have been licking them.

            The group on the patio looked equally as enthusiastic as the mob outside, and equally as deadly. Spears were pointed at the trio as they approached. Quick-Fin pushed her way forward, shoving the spears out of her path.

            "This is on Tidal-Wave's orders," she scolded the men. "Out of the way! Let us through." Reluctantly they did as they were told.

            "Emma." Adam tried to go to them, but was firmly pushed down by his captors. "Did you get everything?"

            "Almost. Brennan is getting the rest." Emma caught sight of her teammate. "Jesse? Jesse!"

            "No." Tidal-Wave grabbed the psionic. "No care for him, until we get what we need."

            Emma glared. "I am going to give you three seconds to let me go. One. Two—"

            "Emma, wait." Adam turned to Tidal-Wave. "She means it, Tidal-Wave. For your own sake, let her go."

            "This is a small woman, and a land-dweller at that."

            Adam leaned back in his chair. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He folded his arms.

            Tidal-Wave looked from Adam to Emma and back to Adam. He looked at Jesse, lying helpless on the sofa, blood oozing through his fingers which were loosely wrapped around the arrow still sticking out just above his belt and remembered how difficult it had been to take just this one mutant down. And he remembered how fiercely Adam Kane, a mere land-dweller, had fought. Tidal-Wave looked at Adam one last time. Adam clearly thought that this Emma woman would be as fierce, or more so, than the previous two. Was the land-dweller bluffing? Adam shrugged: _your choice_.

            Tidal-Wave scowled. "Go." He stepped out of her way.

            Emma didn't hesitate. "Jesse!" She turned back. "Adam?"

            "I don't know, Emma. I haven't been allowed to examine him." Adam hesitated. "Do what you can for him, Emma. Keep him comfortable, and try not to let him move. I don't know where the arrow is lodged. If it's anywhere near the aorta, it could slice open and Jesse will bleed to death in a matter of seconds."

            "Enough." Tidal-Wave stepped in, but without much of his usual gruffness. "Begin your work, scientist."

            "All right." Not happy, but not seeing a better option, Adam went to the portable medical lab that Feather and Quick-Fin had toted inside. There wasn't much to it. It was designed for on-site work, with the real jobs being sent back to Sanctuary for heavy duty analysis under proper working conditions. "I'll need samples from several of you, to contrast and compare."

            Emma smoothed the hair away that had fallen onto Jesse's face. He looked pale, she thought; frighteningly pale. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and he was shivering. But his eyes opened at her touch, and he managed a feeble smile. "Hey."

            "Hey, yourself. Why didn't you phase? Let the arrow through?"

            Jesse allowed his eyelids to droop. "Didn't see it coming." He coughed, a drop of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. "What is it they say, that you never hear the bullet with your name on it?" He coughed again.

            "Shh. Don't talk like that. We're going to get you out of here."

            Jesse smiled again, without any real hope. "Sure."

*          *          *

            Adam pipetted another drop of blood onto the slide, pushing the glass under the microscope, getting interested in the project despite his fear for Jesse, for himself and the rest of his team. He couldn't remember being in a tighter fix: even if the New Mutants could fight their way out of the bungalow, there was nowhere to go. The Helix would need several days of work before being air-worthy again, and swimming the several hundred miles to civilization was out of the question.

            Tidal-Wave had all the New Mutants here inside the bungalow now, as well as the quartet of teen-agers that, Adam gathered, had started this whole mess. Quick-Fin, according to Brennan's hastily whispered introduction, had discovered Adam's arrival on the island and instigated the attack in order to persuade Adam to provide a cure for her people and those of her beloved's clan. The original plan that Quick-Fin had thought up didn't include the levels of destruction that lay bleeding inside and out of the bungalow, but she had been the mind behind it all. He couldn't blame her; anyone facing death in a few short years would be eager to search for any possible way out. Adam quashed a budding admiration; if Tidal-Wave hadn't been so quick to try to kidnap Adam, her plan might have worked.

            Adam covered the drop of blood with a slip of glass and slid it under the microscope, his mind working on two levels. He thought up and discarded several escape plans as unworkable. No matter how they left this bungalow, the fact was that the Helix was going nowhere without several days of repair. Adam himself could do it, and Brennan's help would speed up the process, but Jesse himself was the one who usually tinkered with the craft. Without his expertise, the repairs would go that much slower. A fast escape was out of the question.

No, the solution lay here in this test tube, pun not intended. Adam and the New Mutants' best plan was to go along with Tidal-Wave's demands. 

Contrary to what he had originally believed, these sea people were not a natural mutation. Their genes clearly showed evidence of human intervention, and their lineage not more than a few generations. Any precise gene manipulation couldn't be attempted with the crude equipment that he had on hand, but perhaps, if he gathered enough data for an answer, he could persuade Tidal-Wave to allow him and his team to return to Sanctuary to develop a permanent cure.

            Something struck him, something odd about the structure of the red blood cells. Adam turned up the magnification, looking at the cell nucleus. Yes, that was it. Definitely odd. The twisted twists and turns took an extra twist and turn, as though the DNA had gotten lost in the maze. What could have caused that, and, more importantly, how did it impact the current problem? He looked around, and his gaze landed on Talon, sitting huddled miserably in the corner of the room with his sister with the glares of all of the sea people upon him. He kept his wings tightly closed, and both Sharp-Coral and Quick-Fin stood by as if daring any of their brothers to attack their winged friends. 

            "Talon. I need a sample of your blood."

            "Why?" Tidal-Wave demanded to know. "The air people do not care about living long lives. They live, they die, they are done. Work on a cure for the sea people."

            Adam sighed. "Tidal-Wave, you asked me to develop a cure. To get it, I need a sample of Talon's blood. Do you want me to fail before I've even half begun?"

            "If you fail, the man dies," Tidal-Wave threatened.

            "And that will be on your head," Adam returned, fighting to maintain his composure. "I'm not the one getting in the way. I need that sample."

            "I care about living," Talon put in. "I have much to live for."

            "As do I," Quick-Fin said challengingly. "Tidal-Wave, I claim Talon as my mate. Here, before witnesses."

            "What!" The room erupted. Tidal-Wave grabbed the green-haired girl by the air, dragging her to her feet. Talon jumped up, ready to intervene.

            "I don't care what you do to me, Tidal-Wave!" Quick-Fin shouted. "Talon is my mate! I love him! I will leave the clan, but I will be with him!"

            "This is your doing, Birdman!" Tidal-Wave snarled. "You have twisted her mind. You have toyed with her feelings until she cannot think!"

            Quick-Fin hauled off and punched Tidal-Wave in the nose. Tidal-Wave went down on his backside. He stared at her, jaw dropping in astonishment. "You hit me."

            "Tidal-Wave, you have the brains of a sea urchin," Quick-Fin growled. "Don't you dare think for one moment that I'm the stupid one here. There is no man in this room who can tell me who and when to love, and that includes _you!_ Now get off your ass and get out of the way." With a mercurial change of pace, she held out her hand to her mate. "Talon, I believe Dr. Kane needs your assistance."

            "My blood is more accurate," Talon mumbled under his breath, but allowed himself to be conducted to Adam's make-shift workstation, himself a bit stunned by what had happened. Tidal-Wave stared at the pair, the jealousy plain in his eyes.

            _Jesse's life at stake, and I'm caught in the middle of a love triangle. All of our lives_. But Adam Kane could only play by the rules he had been given, and hope not to lose. He took his sample and stuck it under the microscope.

            Yes, just as he'd thought. Adam's gaze took in Feather, sitting next to her brother with Sharp-Coral hovering protectively over her. He requested and received a sample of her blood as well, and it confirmed his suspicion.

            "Well?" Tidal-Wave demanded. "What have you found?"

            "The cure." Adam straightened up from the microscope. He indicated the cells that were dancing about on the laptop computer screen. The picture didn't truly demonstrate anything in particular, but Adam wasn't above using a bit of scientific trickery to get his point across. Not with time in short supply. Impressing his audience was of paramount importance.

            "Give it to me." Tidal-Wave advanced on Adam. Brennan himself got up, concerned about violence from the merman.

            "Not possible."

            "What do you mean, not possible?" Tidal-Wave roared. "Give it to me! Now!"

            "Sit down and listen for a change!" Adam shouted back. "You're doing this to yourselves. You're killing yourselves off!"

            Tidal-Wave stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

            "Your history." Adam calmed himself, went back to the lecturer mode. He coughed, and the coughing fit went on too long, reminding him that the sea people were not the only ones to be engaged in self-destructive behavior. He caught Shalimar eyeing him balefully; there was another eight days of antibiotics still to be gotten through. _Assuming we're all alive in eight days, Shalimar_. He hurried on. "Your clan was created over one hundred years ago. You are not a natural mutation, as I originally thought. Some brilliant scientist, working far ahead of his time, altered your gene sequencing so as to produce your gills and webbed feet. This scientist also created a fellow species with wings."

            The sea people looked suspiciously at the sole representatives of the air people. Feather colored.

            Adam hurried on. "He did not create you in isolation. You're right, you're all dying before the age of thirty—because your inherent DNA is incomplete. You need an infusion of another type of DNA." He lost them. Even the New Mutants' eyes were glazing over. "Don't you see? The reason you don't live longer is because you're having children only within your clan. You sea people need to mate with air people, and vice versa. Only then will your children live as long as we land-dwellers do."

            "We can't mate with them," Tidal-Wave protested. "They're a different species."

            "No, they're not," Adam contradicted. "Yes, they look different than you. You have green hair, they have blue, not to mention wings and gills. But look at us: I have brown hair, and Shalimar's is blonde. Brennan is taller than all of us. And each one of the New Mutants has a gift that few other people have. Those are all differences among people of the same specie. And each one of them is quite capable of producing offspring."

            "Not really interested in doing it right at the moment," Brennan muttered under his breath.

            "But," Tidal-Wave said, bewildered, "if we do that, our children will be born with wings."

            "Only half of them," Adam countered. "The other half will have webbed feet, as you do. You need diversity within the clan, and that is how to do it. You aren't two clans; you are one clan with different types of people in it. Only by coming together and living in harmony can you both prosper."

            "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," Emma murmured, stroking Jesse's forehead. The molecular sighed, and seemed to shift into a deeper sleep.

            "And there is your proof." Adam pointed at Feather. The girl colored.

            "What do you mean?"

            "I mean, that there, inside Feather, is growing the first child in several generations to be a complete person, as he or she was intended to be. That child will outlive you all; and your children, and your grandchildren unless you follow Feather's and Sharp-Coral's example."

            Sharp-Coral drew Feather closer to him, unconsciously protecting his mate and unborn child from the growling murmur that arose from this revelation.

            "But what about us?" Tidal-Wave pressed. "Is there no hope for us?" He held up his trembling and wrinkled hands. "Will I not live to see this air person's child be born? The child of Sharp-Coral?"

            _Now is the time for extreme caution_. "I believe there is a possibility of a cure, yes. But you may have already destroyed it."

            "I have destroyed nothing!" Tidal-Wave flared. "If anyone has destroyed anything, it is those damned air people!"

            "Be quiet and listen for a change," Quick-Fin yelled at him. "You have already shouted too much. You captured this man to produce a cure; now listen to what cure he brings us." She turned around, quickly changing her demeanor. "You were saying, Dr. Kane?"

            Adam had to hide a smile. He couldn't have asked for a better straight woman to feed him lines. He suspected that Quick-Fin knew it, and wondered just who would end up as leader of the sea people once this was all over. Of course, the real question was who would be the leader of the combined sea and air people afterward. He wouldn't put it past Quick-Fin. She might use her mate Talon for political reasons, but the power would be Quick-Fin's.

            "I think I can synthesize a temporary cure for the rest of you," he said, hoping that he could pull it off, "but there are two problems. Number one: I simply don't have the equipment here. This portable lab," and he waved his hand at the machine beeping forlornly for care and feeding, "can't cut it. It can give me basic information, but it can't do the delicate work that would be required. I need equipment that I can only get back home. In fact, some of the tools I need I'll be MacGyvering together from spare parts just to get them to work."

            "And problem number two?"

            Again he silently blessed Quick-Fin, grateful that she was on his side. Her participation made this a lot easier. "Problem number two: I need a certain kind of blood as a base for this cure. Without it, I can't even start. And the blood that I need is currently leaking out of Jesse." He stood back, folding his arms, looking sternly at Tidal-Wave. Emma looked up in alarm. "That's right, Tidal-Wave. The feud between your two peoples may have destroyed the only hope of a cure for both of you. No one else on this god-forsaken rock has the right blood type. If he dies, so do all of you. _Now_ will you let me see to him?"

*          *          *

            "I just ripped his feathers to shreds," Shalimar complained, "and you want me to trust that Quill will ever so carefully carry me over several hundred miles of deep ocean filled with sharks and killer whales without dropping me?"

            "Don't worry, Shal. If he drops you, I'm sure he'll swoop down and pick you up," Brennan reassured her. The levity in his voice didn't quite mask the concern. "He'll probably even do it before the sharks and killer whales get you. You've got the easy part. I get to fix the Helix with nothing but sand and cocoanut shells."

            "Want to trade?"

            "Not a chance."

            "Coward."

            "Damn right. Mrs. Mulray didn't raise a fool."

            They both looked up as Emma walked over to wish them well. Her eyes were still haunted with worry, and Shalimar put it into words. "He's not doing well, is he?"

            Emma shook her head. "Adam's going to try to remove the arrow in just a few minutes, as soon I return to help him. Make sure that you get back as soon as you can, Shalimar. Jesse's going to need those antibiotics. Brennan, Adam said that he'll come out to help you with the Helix as soon as he finishes with Jesse and makes certain that he's stable."

            Brennan frowned. "There's something you're not telling us, Emma."

            "Yes. There's another reason that we have to get Jesse out of here as soon as possible. Adam lied to Tidal-Wave."

            "He lied? How?"

            "It's not Jesse's blood that's necessary to the serum to cure these people. Any of us New Mutants could supply it."

            "Then why…" Shalimar's voice trailed off.

            Emma nodded. "Yes. As long as they believe that the only way to make the serum is to let Adam take Jesse back to Sanctuary, they'll let him live. If they ever find out, they use Jesse as a hostage once more. They'll send Adam back, and imprison us all. Or kill three and save one for leverage. Either way, some of us will end up dead."

*          *          *

            "Comfortable?" Adam asked, searching Jesse's face worriedly. He pulled a chair over to sit by Jesse's side. The molecular hadn't moved from his position on the sofa, and his hands still encircled the arrow, protecting the spot from accidental movement. His face was white, and his eyes slowly opened to Adam's words. Then narrowed as he saw Tidal-Wave looming behind.

            Jesse managed a small smile. "Sure," he lied. "Hand me the baseball glove. I'll play catcher."

            Adam's own return smile didn't make it to his eyes. "Good. If you're ready, I'm going to try to take out this arrow. I need you to try to not change position; the arrow's sitting entirely too close to the aorta for me to feel good about this."

            "I hear you," Jesse said tiredly, trying to hide his fear. "I don't feel good, either. What do you want me to do?"

            "Jesse, I need you to phase," Adam instructed. "Once you do that, I can pull the arrow out and hopefully you won't feel a thing. I can slide it out, with no further tissue damage."

            "Good idea, Adam, but I don't think I'm up to phasing," Jesse admitted. "I'll try if you want me to."

            "You'll be able to do it," Adam reassured. "We have our own power booster. Goes by the name of Emma DeLauro."

            Emma arrived in his line of sight. She covered her own nervousness with a false note of gaiety. "Hey, Jess. Ready to do a little phasing?"

            "Adam, you've got to be kidding. Emma doesn't know the first thing about phasing. What if she throws me off?"

            "Then nothing happens, and we haven't lost anything by trying," Adam replied blithely.

            "Oh, ye of little faith," Emma murmured. "Jesse, I'm not going to throw you off. I'm just going to make it easier for you to phase. Here, I want you to look at me."

            Jesse complied. "The light's bright," he complained.

            "I'll get it out of your eyes." Adam adjusted the spot light, pointing at his own work area. "Emma, whenever you're ready."

            "C'mon, Jess, look at me," Emma cajoled. "Let yourself relax. You're going to feel better very soon."

            "'mm."

            If he hadn't known that it was impossible, Adam Kane would've sworn that he could see a visible psychic bond form between the two, Emma subtly guiding and strengthening the tie. Jesse's face relaxed, the lines of pain easing away. His breathing became even and regular as if he were asleep, but Adam knew better.

            "Emma?"

            "Not yet," she murmured. Her hands played over her teammate's face, light contact only, the physical enhancing the psychic. "Soon."

            Jesse's form started to waver, started to become insubstantial. Adam could see the pattern of the fabric of the gaily colored sofa through him. He waited until the last moment, until Emma gave him a barely perceptible head nod, and Jesse completely ghosted into a gaseous state. He seized the arrow, gently moving it free of the area that Jesse's torso also occupied, stopping as the flesh around it become more solid.

            "Losing it, Emma," he said quietly. "I need another moment."

            "On it."

            The psychic bond tightened its hold. Jesse moaned in response, only semi-conscious, but, trembling, he phased out more thoroughly, almost disappearing. Adam swiftly pulled the arrow away. Behind him, he could hear Tidal-Wave gasp in astonishment.

            "Now, Emma! Bring him back!"

            Emma furrowed her brow in concentration, her lips moving soundlessly with her effort to assist her teammate. Jesse's molecules seemed to drift apart, seeking to disassociate altogether. Adam clenched his fists—had the molecular completely lost control?

            Then his form wavered, and re-established its right to solidity. Emma gently detached her psychic bond, smoothing the hair way from Jesse's face. Jesse sighed, and seemed to sink into the sofa, relaxed.

            But Adam knew better. "He's hemorrhaging," he snapped out, swiftly assessing the situation. He snatched up bandages. "Emma, quick. Apply pressure here, right on this spot. I'm going to try to suture whatever vessel is bleeding."

            "Don't let that blood escape," Tidal-Wave warned anxiously, seeing his only hope at a cure dribble out to stain the fabric of the sofa. The dark red warred with the light green and white pattern. Emma put her hand over the dressing as Adam directed, pressing as hard as she could to staunch the flow of blood.

            Adam didn't spare him a glance. "Get out of my light, Tidal-Wave. I'm a little busy here."

            "Adam?"

            "I don't know, Emma. It's going to be close."

*          *          *

            "I can walk," Jesse grumbled, stumbling along the palm frond-lined path to the hastily patched together Helix, arms draped across the shoulders of both Shalimar and Emma. He coughed, wincing. "It's not far."

            "Hah." Adam himself paused to rest, coughing as well. "As I recall, that's what I said when we landed. And got properly squashed for my trouble."

            "Next time we plan a vacation, Jesse, you're not going to be the one making the arrangements," Shalimar told him. "Lovely place, but a little too much excitement for what we had in mind."

            Jesse complained even more when he came into view of the Helix. The craft had been pulled away from the rock wall that it had crunched up against, and the hole that Shalimar had created pulling Jesse out was patched over with Frankenstein-looking bolts sticking out of it. The sleek lines of the craft were marred by jerry-rigged repairs. "Brennan! What have you done to the Helix?"

            "I fixed it, bro. After a certain molecular I know crashed it into the mountainside."

            "It didn't look that bad!"

            "Right. It looked worse. At least it'll fly. And get you home."

            Jesse sobered. "We're coming back, Brennan. Count on it."

            "I am." Brennan helped the molecular into the Helix, seeing him seated and properly webbed into his seat. Adam took the pilot's seat, Emma the co-pilot. Quick-Fin, Sharp-Coral, Talon and Feather trooped in after them and were directed to their own seats, fastening the belts gingerly.

            Tidal-Wave and Quill stuck their heads inside to survey the group disapprovingly. Tidal-Wave motioned to Brennan. "You. Out. You're staying."

            "Yeah. I know." Brennan turned back to Emma. "Take care of them both, Emma. Can't trust either of 'em to stay out of trouble."

            "We'll be back." Emma's face looked haunted; the psionic hated splitting the team. But there was no other option: to get Jesse out, to prepare the cure, Adam needed to be at Sanctuary. Which meant leaving Brennan and Shalimar behind as good faith.

*          *          *

            "You lied to us!"

            Two days later, two days of frantic work to prepare a cure. Adam had Jesse back safe and recuperating; the molecular would be as good as new in time. Right now what he needed was rest.

            As did Adam, but that wasn't happening. He coughed savagely, wishing the antibiotics would work a little faster. He drafted the quartet that had come back with them as lab assistants, but of the four only Quick-Fin caught on to what he was doing. None had had any formal education. They couldn't even read the simplest of instructions, and had to be watched every moment to prevent an explosion. He finally dismissed them to another part of Sanctuary. He could work faster alone.

            Almost alone. Emma spent as much time with him in the lab as she did with Jesse. It helped. Emma's pair of hands Adam could count on. And, just as importantly, he needed her blood, the blood of a New Mutant that he could alter into a cure for the island people. He carefully made trips to see Jesse, carrying phlebotomy equipment for show, but the only thing that he did to the molecular was to examine him to be certain that he was healing.

            "You lied to us!"

            How much could he salvage? Stall for time, gather information. What did she know? "What do you mean, Quick-Fin?"

            Quick-Fin pointed to the screen. Red blood cells were dancing across the images, bumping up against each other, their circles round and whole. "That is not Jesse's blood."

            "Very good. Next?"

            "That blood is healthy."

            "You're ace-ing this exam. Keep going."

            Quick-Fin didn't understand the reference, but the meaning was clear. "Whose blood is it?"

            "Haven't figured it out yet?"

            "That's Emma's blood," she accused. "You lied to us! You didn't need Jesse's blood. Any of the New Mutants' blood would have served. There was no need to leave the island!" She looked at him in disgust. "You sacrificed the lives of the other two in order to save your own."

            "Well, two out of three ain't bad," Adam murmured loudly enough that Quick-Fin had no trouble hearing him.

            "We will return to our island now," Quick-Fin announced. "There is no longer any need to remain here. Gather what you need. We are taking you back to face Tidal-Wave."

            "Hey, hold on just a minute—"

            "Talon?" Quick-Fin beckoned to the doorway. Talon shoved Jesse in before him, arm locked behind in a half-Nelson. Sharp-Coral stood behind, ready to help. Jesse himself looked ready to fall over, face still white and drawn. "Talon, if Adam does not cooperate, break Jesse's neck!" Talon took a firmer grasp, sliding his arm under Jesse's jaw. Jesse swallowed hard.

            "Stop it!" This had gone too far. "Quick-Fin, you don't understand!"

            "I understand too well, Adam Kane," she replied. "You are just like all of the land-dwellers. You must be forced into giving us what we are entitled to. Move now, or Talon will do as I tell him to."

            Talon gave a little jerk, forcing a gasp out of Jesse. The molecular gulped, and firmed. "It's all right, Adam. Don't give in." He stared hard at Adam, hoping the scientist would get the message: _I'll phase rock solid. Talon won't be able to touch me_.

            Good idea, except for one thing: Jesse was still too weak to be able to count on his powers. And Adam knew that Quick-Fin knew it.

            "Begin, or he dies," Quick-Fin snarled.

            "Wait."

            The voice belonged to Feather, Emma beside her. "Quick-Fin, wait. For the sake of the child that I carry, your brother's child, wait. Listen to what he has to say."

            "I am through waiting, Feather," Quick-Fin said. "I have watched what Adam does, and the cure he says he is preparing. He has lied to us!"

            "Yes, I lied to you," Adam admitted. The time for deception was over. "I lied because if I didn't get Jesse back to some serious medical equipment, he would have died. And the fastest way I knew to make a serum for your people was to come back to Sanctuary where I had the facilities that I needed. But I knew that you and Tidal-Wave would never believe me, so I lied. Was it wrong? Yes. But for a greater good, as you yourself know."

            "What do you mean?" Quick-Fin asked suspiciously.

            Adam gestured to the red blood cells meandering about on the screen. "You're right, that is not Jesse's blood. He has a much better use for his blood than this. But nor is it Emma's."

            "It's healthy blood," Talon said wonderingly. "It looks clean and healthy. Not like my blood that you showed me."

            "That's right, Talon. It's healthy blood. It's also Quick-Fin's. And here," and Adam punched up another picture of red and round blood cells, "is Feather's."

            "They look identical," Quick-Fin said wonderingly.

            "Good observation. They are identical, at least in all the ways that matter."

            "How can this be?" Sharp-Coral asked. "What are you showing us?"

            Adam lapsed back into lecture mode, noting that Talon's grip on Jesse's neck had loosened. "We've established that intermingling between the two sub-species is essential for long lives among both your peoples. In other words, co-mingling of the blood is good for both of you. Each of you has a piece of the DNA strands that help both to live healthy lives well into your seventies and possibly beyond. By using Emma's blood, I've devised a way to inoculate each of you with the other's genetic inheritance, and can remediate the effects that the last generations of inbreeding have caused. I can produce enough of this serum to cure all of the sea people and the air people on the island."

            "Then you have devised a cure," Quick-Fin jumped in.

            "Yes, but there's more." Adam gestured to the screen. "As you can see, Feather doesn't need it. She's managed to come up with her own cure."

            "You mean, Feather will live to see her grandchildren?"

            "My child." Feather touched her belly, as if to caress the life growing inside. "You mean my child has caused me to change?"

            "Pretty remarkable, isn't it?" Adam grinned. "Looks like the miracle of life is even more miraculous than we'd ever thought. Gives credence to the concept that the placenta isn't just a one-way conduit of nutrients. Of course, this whole thing is a gift between mother and baby. Sharp-Coral and all the potential daddies are still going to need my potion."

            Talon was still suspicious. "But what about the other blood sample you have on the screen? It's healthy. If it's not Feather's, then whose is it?"

            Adam just looked at him. Quick-Fin caught on faster.

            "Oh."

            "That's right," Adam grinned. "Congratulations, Talon. I should ask if you're hoping for a boy or a girl, but maybe I'll settle for asking whether you're hoping for wings or gills."

*          *          *

            "It took about a day," Shalimar reported. "Everyone kept glaring at each other, throwing insults back and forth. Then the insults kind of died down, and next thing you know there's billing and cooing. The only fights I've seen have been over where to build the nest. Most of the couples are settling for somewhere inland, although a few have been aiming for the bungalow. I think Tidal-Wave has staked out the master bedroom."

            Jesse groaned. Though still not fully recovered, the molecular had insisted on accompanying everyone on the Helix to bring the serum to those not yet involved in producing their own cure. Adam eyed him in sudden alarm, but Jesse waved him off; his distress was emotional, not physical. "Adam, I was supposed to fix this place up for Jack Prescott. What is he going to say when he finds out this place has been turned into eyrie for New Mutants?"

            "Don't tell him," Shalimar advised.

            Brennan added, "There's a reason home is called Sanctuary. Better hope he can't find you there. We outta here, guys?"


End file.
